A Heart in Hell: The Labrum Needle
by Laenaia Manaallin
Summary: Laenaia Manaallin, a deep Imaskari child, was eight when she managed an escape from her Illithid captors and was "found" by the Bregan D'aerthe scout, Valas Hune. He promised her he would bring her to the surface but not before Kimmuriel discovered her.
1. Prologue

**A Heart in Hell**  
><em>The Labrum Needle<em>

**Prologue:**

"Quiet your mind, steady, and carefully," he commanded as he focused his mental powers into the mind of the young child. She was just eight years old but already Kimmuriel found her potential impressive, even by his highly placed standards.

In the beginning he had been reluctant to accept her into his training and his care. Kimmuriel had his own studies to resume and already felt the burden that maintaining and running Bregan D'aerthe had placed on him.

Jarlaxle had very cleverly coaxed him into taking the child, assuring him she would be worth his efforts; worth his while. Kimmuriel was disgusted with himself for allowing Jarlaxle to, yet again, convince him otherwise. Apparently even a psion as great as Kimmuriel was not above Jarlaxle's persuasions.

"Focus your intent on the object, think strongly on what you want it to do," he commanded again, this time even more sternly in heavy drow language.

Her mind wandered and she found it hard to concentrate intently on the silver mirror lying on the table between Master Kimmuriel and herself. She could feel the tingling sensation of Kimmuriel's psionic energy and coupled with her own it was annoyingly painful, like a muscle spasm, only in her head. He had made it clear to her that the more she exercised her abilities the less annoyingly painful it would be.

Refocusing her mind was taking all the mental effort she could muster. She was now fighting back the tears that threatened to drown her eyes. She simply could not allow herself to cry in Kimmuriel's presence. He did not take kindly to any show of emotion. He reprimanded her often simply for smiling or giggling. But crying in Kimmuriel's presence merited a much worse punishment. Kimmuriel despised crying.

She managed only to budge the mirror slightly in Kimmuriel's direction-not sufficient enough. The tears began streaming down her cheeks and her little body trembled in a desperate attempt against making any noises that remotely sounded like crying. She knew she was doomed.

Kimmuriel's expression was always the same; cold and blank. There was no hint of life in his crimson eyes. His lips rarely cracked a smile and he was always in control of himself. He showed no temper and barely showed any sort of emotional reaction, even when the world around him was choatic and unpredictable.

His eyes locked with hers and though she could see no visible signs of his disappointment she knew he was. Her little hands grabbed the edge of the table as she braced for her punishment. A sudden blast of psionic energy exploded through her, leaving her frail little body quivering on the floor. Her mind went blank, her body limp, and the world around her was swallowed by blackness.

Kimmuriel stood over the pathetic little mass on the floor with no care or remorse for what he had just done to her. She would learn how to use her ability and he would be responsible for her training and molding her into perfection. She was special, if only Jarlaxle knew just how truly special she could be.


	2. Chapter 1 Secrets in the Dark

His crimson eyes easily cut through the darkness, allowing him to sharply focus on the bizarre scene that was unfolding in the cavern directly below him. A stray thrall had ripped the throat out of its illithid master letting the wretched creature's lifeless form drop to its feet where another illithid body already lay. A young human child stood over that body pilfering it for trinkets and items of importance, she quickly moved onto the new body, nearly before it hit the ground.

The human child's ability to maneuver through the Underdark was impressive. No ordinary human would have been able to negotiate through the pitch blackness with such ease. The drow scout estimated her to be around seven or eight years of age, and for a species of lesser intelligence her ability to survive beyond a day in the Underdark was nothing short of a miracle.

He recognized the thrall from an illithid trading caravan he had witnessed in the lower tunnels a few days earlier. It was the only thrall of orc biology in the caravan. The child though, did not look familiar and he didn't remember seeing any children amongst the captives. He carefully studied her and paid particular attention to the way the thrall moved, it was very apparent that it was not acting of its own accord. She had to be controlling it, but how?

The drow figured her to be wielding a magical device of some sort, one that was powerful enough to easily destroy two illithids. It made sense, but as much as he wanted to get a closer look, he felt he already allowed himself to get too close-dangerously close. His gaze fell onto the illithid bodies, as he wondered what this child could truly be capable of.

The drow shook his head at the notion of a human child besting a pair of illithids. There were few denizens of the Underdark who dare challenge them. Most who did, found themselves on a slave chain awaiting their doom. It was the lucky ones that were traded to the drow where their torture would be less severe than what they would endure with the illithids-unless of course, they found themselves in the hands of one particular drow.

The scout thought of his own master and what he frequently did to the captives he acquired. He was known to regularly trade with illithids for human specimens along with other living specimens, drow included, furthering his own research and amusement. He inflicted such pain on his victims that most begged for his mercy and pleaded for a quick death.

He recalled the last time he witnessed his master removing a brain from a human who was fully awake and aware. There were a few times he heard the screams of drow females echoing throughout the caverns of the Bregan D'aerthe headquarters as they suffered the most horrific and ritualistic torture. Mostly though, his master's need for stimulation came from capturing illithids and what he did to them was utterly indescribable. Momentary chills ran the course of his spine as the scout realized a fate far worse than the one illithids could promise and it came at the hands of his own master.

He brought his attention back to the small human child. Horror gripped him as he watched her methodically remove the brains of both illithids. She jabbed some sort of sharp instrument in each of the brains and placed them in a satchel at her side. She motioned to the thrall who came obediently to her aide, picking up both bodies and heaving them into a large web strung across another opening to a tunnel behind them.

A large spider, eager for the free meal, quickly wrapped her dead victims in a cocoon of gossamer. The arachnid would have them well devoured before any illithid search party would come to reclaim their remains. But without their brains the scout wondered if the illithids would ever be able to know what happened to their counterparts. She was a clever little girl, very well trained indeed, but by whom?

He watched the thrall and the child make their way into a far cavern all the while slipping back into the blackness from where he was perched. He took comfort in thinking he could find some peace to slip into reverie before resuming his trek toward Luskan carrying with him ill news from his recent scouting expedition. His mind wandered restlessly, first about the news he was not looking forward to sharing with his master and secondly, images of that human child were causing him additional discomfort.

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"Valas, Valas Ozzl'Hune, wake up!" a soft childlike whisper stirred Valas from his reverie, "Valas wake up." The scout awoke abruptly noticing a tingling numbness in his limbs and head. A sudden rush of panic fell over him as he realized he was no longer alone. Instinctually he went to reach for one of his Kukris only to discover he could not move.

She was right there in front of him, that human child, staring at him with some sort of awkward amusement. Her head was slightly cocked to the left, up-close he could see how unkempt she was. Her dark hair was snarled and matted, framing her face were several strands of braided hair with strange glass beadwork woven in. She leaned in toward him which revealed two distinctly different colored eyes hiding behind her messy locks.

She moved even closer still; cocking her head oddly, bird-like, while reaching toward his face with her hand. She placed it gently on his cheek as she sat back on her heels studying him. She seemed intrigued by the paleness of her skin against the blackness of his own.

A soft smile crept across her face; he began to prepare himself for whatever assault was to come next. Her smile quickly faded swallowed by a look of deep sadness. She suddenly pulled back from him, curling up against the rock slab wall of the cavern nook he had hidden himself in.

Valas, was still unable to move and couldn't see where the thrall was, but already felt his survival instincts kicking in. He began strategizing possible ways he could escape however it was now obvious to him that she was not wielding any magic-it was worse than that. She was using psionic powers, the tingling sensations through his body and predominately in his head were a dead giveaway.

Valas understood how terribly unstable psionic energy could be when wielded by someone of little experience or one with emotional weaknesses. None of the magic trinkets he carried with him could harness the devastating effects of psionic energy. He kept his eyes focused on her waiting for her next move, but nothing happened. She sat with her back up against the wall, her head now hidden in her knees sobbing softly.

"What do you want with me?" he questioned, shocked to hear his own voice. She hadn't taken that ability from him which potentially left her vulnerable. A slight wave of relief washed over him, as Valas was a seasoned professional when it came to conning and deception. The ability played a pivotal role in his survival all these years in the Underdark and he wasn't above manipulating a child, especially in these dire circumstances.

She looked up, directly at him, wiping her tears with her hands, which were so dirty; streaks of grime now marred her alabaster face. Her face held soft features with large eyes, a face that radiated a naive innocence not common in creatures of the Underdark. Innocent, however, she was not, no matter how sweet of a face she wore.

"I don't want to hurt you; it's not my intention, Valas Hune. I knew you were here in the darkness, I knew you saw me," her voice trailed off and as distant look haunted her eyes, and "You can help me."

"I can help you? How? Why?" The fact that the child knew who he was already had him wondering what she was up to. He was, after all, a drow, and from experience he knew to trust no one.

"You are going to the surface and that is where I must go. There are humans on the surface and I can be with them. That was where we were heading before the illithids came. You'll help me Valas, because you have a decent soul. I know this. You understand what it means to survive and the lengths one must go in order to do so."

"I saw what you did earlier; you and your orc thrall, and you think I am going to take you and your friend to the surface? I think you are pretty capable of surviving on your own. You and the thrall killed two illithids with ease. What do you need with me and how can you expect me to trust you?"

Sadness consumed her face once again, "I didn't mean to kill those illithids, I didn't want to kill them, but they are bad. They were going to hurt me. The illithids want me dead. Dead the way they killed my father, when all we wanted to do was get to the surface. Please, you must take me to the surface. You can trust me, as long as you trust yourself not to hurt me. I'll swear an oath to any God you wish, please take me to the surface Valas, please." She pleaded as tears welled up in her eyes again, her shoulders shuttered under the weight of the sorrow that was washing over her.

They wanted her dead or did they want her dead? Valas carefully considered her statement, the choice of wording, and the possible implications of it before he prodded her with more questions. He was now just as curious as he was suspicious.

"Why were you and your father down here?" Valas asked with new found interest.

"We were k-k-kicked out of our h-home when I wa-was three," she stammered between gasps of air, "my p-people said I was b-a-ad and they didn't want someone like me a-a-round. They didn't like what I can do, they said I was d-d-dangerous"

Her eyes went cold with her next statement, "They told my father if he didn't allow them to kill me then he had to take me far away. He promised my mother before she died, that he would never let anyone harm me."

Valas hesitated with his next question, not sure if he really and truly wanted to know the answer, "Exactly what is it you are able to do?"

She brought her index finger up to her mouth to gently hush him, "That's a secret, I cannot tell. Especially now after what has happened to me."

The Underdark was certainly as far away as any human could get. Her father, due to his daughter's inherit abilities, must have sought the help of the illithids and things didn't work out as he hoped. She looked sickly, like she hadn't eaten for days, her skin was alabaster white with a greenish hue, due impart to all the filth covering her. Valas couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of pity for the girl.

"You can move now, I trust that you won't hurt me." she said with a hint of a threat laced in amongst her words.

She shot him a quick look that told him it was best he did not challenge her trust, "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to follow you to the surface. I know that is where you are going. Please take me there. Will you let me follow?"

Valas shook the numbness out of his arms and his legs, "If I say yes will your friend be coming along with us?"

His response rang loud in his head, where did it come from? The pit of Valas's stomach filled with despair at the realization he still wasn't entirely in control of his own self. He had no intentions of letting this child follow him or go anywhere near him. Suddenly this realization was quickly dispelled by a deep rooted feeling of sympathy. The feeling, so foreign to Valas, that the intrigue of it stamped out any attempt he had in wanting to shake it from his very soul.

"He is useful, he can help us in case there is unforeseen danger on the way," she said abruptly, she yawned, changing the subject, "I am tired now, I would like to sleep. Is it alright if I sleep here next to you?"

Before Valas could object she was fast asleep on the cold stone floor. He found it curious that he no longer felt threatened by her. That feeling was replaced with a deep seated understanding. He felt warmth within him and a desire to stay by the girl while she slept. He couldn't fathom why he was feeling this way or why he even cared, it was as though he was detached from himself –like he was outside of his own body looking down on this situation- completely and totally removed from his formal self

The feeling was so alien and yet, so comfortable, that he leaned back against the stone, slid down into a restful position. Without any more hesitation he found the peace he needed to slip back into a light reverie. As he drifted he could hear the heavy but rhythmic breathing of the thrall just outside the cavern nook, and he didn't seem to mind at all-so unusual he thought to himself as the final grip of elven sleep crept over his body.


	3. Chapter 2 Unlikely Travelers

They were just two days from the surface and the journey thus far had been without trouble. Valas considered himself fortunate as he still did not fully trust his young companion. She hadn't spoken to him since the night she begged him to let her follow him to the surface. He was uneasy with the psionic power she had and still couldn't fathom how he had allowed himself to be so easily convinced. She had a way about her.

She refused any meal he offered her during their breaks and didn't answer any of his questions. She simply just shut herself off from him and was literally just along for the trip. The thrall stayed 20 paces back from them and would not approach either Valas or the girl during stops. There was no doubt in Valas's mind that the girl purposely had the thrall following them from behind. He would have done the same if he were in her shoes.

The caverns were growing colder the closer they got to the surface. It was winter in Luskan and it was a bad one this year. Valas looked over his shoulder toward the girl. She wasn't dressed for the colder climate of the surface and he could tell she was cold. He gently tapped a silver and black button on his vest and instantly a black cloak appeared in his hand. Stopping, he turned to face the girl, taking to one knee and pulling the cloak around her shoulders.

"It's only going to get colder from here on out and you aren't dressed appropriately for the nasty winter that has the surface in its grip."

"Thank you Valas, sir. I haven't ever seen a winter before." She cautiously admitted with a meek smile.

"Never? Not even when you were with your father?" he asked.

"No, not ever, nor have I ever seen, a summer, spring, or autumn. I have not seen any of the surface's seasons."

"I find it hard to believe that you, being human, have been down here your whole life? Child, your young, I am sure you must be confused, you probably don't remember much." Valas paused to look at her.

She could tell he was growing uneasy with her account of her past. Her abilities allowed her to remember everything from the time her heart first started beating in her mother's womb. Of course those memories are complicated and confusing and now she is able to recall them from a detached point of view.

Valas was a nice drow, as nice as a drow could be. Though she knew in her heart his kindness toward her was an outcome of her own doing. She also knew he was fully aware of the effect she had on him, but as long as she could keep his trust he would see no reason to challenge the emotions she was projecting into him. She sensed that he wasn't the type to attack without reason and she knew he was smart.

She also sensed a deep rooted loneliness at the core of his being. He found strength in his solitude and how he lived his life. He liked it so much so, he preferred it over company. He found peace in it. The life of a rogue scout suited him well.

The shadows-the nooks and crannies of the Underdark were places where he found solace. There was an interesting story behind Valas and as she secretly scoured his mind, she found she liked his story. Suddenly, Valas scaled a wall up toward a hole in the tunnel. She noted how at home and in perfect harmony Valas was with his surroundings.

"We will rest here," he declared as he threw a rope out and motioned for her to climb up. Grabbing the end, she anchored her first foot in a crevice and began her climb. The wall was cold, wet, and slick. She was finding it difficult to climb the wall even with the help of the rope.

Fear was growing in the pit of her stomach as she grew to understand the predicament she was in. Should she fall, Valas would be free from her emotional grip and who knew what he would do to her. They were close enough to the surface now that she could find her own way, but fear of the foreign world had turned Valas necessity.

"Valas, I'm, I'm slipping, and I can't climb any further. Help me, please, I am scared." Her hands were wet and she couldn't find her grip and her small fingers were quickly growing numb. Suddenly the wall fell away from her and the world around her whirled.

Valas, hearing the young girl's plea for help, was quick to react, reaching and grabbing her arm. The momentum of her fall combined with his sudden grip brought her face first into the rock wall. The thrall was also alerted to the girl's situation and made a dash to help her. Valas began pulling her up into the cavern nook, her nose was bleeding, she had scratches on her fore arms, and tears were welling up in her eyes.

He handed her a piece of cloth for her nose, "You made quite a commotion, let us hope nothing lurking out there in the dark heard."

"I'm sorry," she whispered through the cloth she held at her nose.

"Sorry?" He said taking a sarcastic tone. "I usually do not succumb to such dire pangs of emotions. I know what you are doing to me and I can't seem to stop it. I can't completely focus under your spell and a lack of focus here in the Underdark, or above for that matter, is the difference between life and death!"

Valas met her gaze with cold eyes, "Our lives depend on my ability to protect us. Your mental, emotional, or whatever in the nine Hells they may be are endangering our lives."

"Don't think I don't know this. But I am doing what I feel I need to do to ensure my survival, surely you can understand this Valas?" her eyes returned his glare with equal coldness and a dash of contempt.

"Besides, these abilities or whatever in the nine hells they may or may not be, have kept me alive down here. That speaks volumes of my capabilities. Me? Alive down here? A mere child and human no less! You don't want to deal with me under any other circumstance Valas, trust me!"

Valas knew the child was right and didn't challenge her any further. All he had to do was remind himself of two illithids who had obviously met their doom in her small hands, or head. She was obviously very capable of surviving which had him wondering why she even needed his help in the first place.

"For such a small child and a human no less, you have an impressive understanding of the world around you. Your ability to survive as long as you have, has me baffled, and I am not about to question your abilities, trust me when I say that whatever it is you are capable of, I am terrified. I despise psions, I hate them!" Valas openly admitted, realizing he didn't mean to say the last sentiment of his out loud.

He studied her expression thinking she would be angry about his last omission but instead she wore a sorrowful expression.

"I hate them too," she replied, "I wish I could be different than what I am. If I was, I wouldn't be here now. If I was, things would have turned out differently."

Again, Valas found her statement intriguing and wanted to know more but knew it was probably in his best interest to not ask, besides their time together would be short. It was in his best interest to get her to release him from whatever it was she was doing to him.

"Child, please listen to me, your grip on my emotions is jeopardizing my ability to survive, I will not harm you, you have me word," Valas pleaded.

The child hesitated briefly before replying, "I don't trust that you would protect me should we encounter trouble and all I care about is getting to the surface. Once there, you are done with me, I promise."

Valas let out a slight laugh, "Protect you? Child, you have your wretched illithid creation out there to protect you, I cannot fully control my actions with you in my head. I don't like it one bit and I insist that you stop it at once."

She just looked at him with a blank expression. No response, nothing. In that instance she reminded him once again of his own master.

"Let me warn you that I do carry some very powerful magic items that could pose a challenge for you if you choose to press this issue with me." he challenged.

"The trinkets you wear on your vest will provide you no safety from my interference. They are not strong enough and I am sorry, but you are a drow. I cannot trust you anymore than I can trust an illithid, or any other creature of the Underdark for that matter. I have learned my lessons the hard way many times over and I will not make the same mistakes twice. So forgive me when I say I cannot release you." explained the girl with an uncanny amusement that Valas found rather insulting and out of context.

"Again, you have my word." he made one final attempt at persuading her.

"A drow's word?" she asked coldly.

"Valas's word."

The child sat in silence, staring at him, a look of consternation plastered all over her face. She was definitely in the midst of a deep dialogue with herself, debating whether to listen to him or follow her gut. He hoped she would listen to him.

"Alright then, if I can't convince you to trust me then the very least you could do is tell me your name."

The little girl locked eyes with him, "Laenaia, Laenaia Manaallin that is my name. My father simply just called me Lanie, for short," she looked away from him, as if considering saying something more, then met his gaze again, "you may call my Lanie, too, if you wish."

"Lanie it is then." Valas whispered, sitting back and studying her. He carefully looked her over he wanted to figure her out, he wanted to know more about her. He studied her carefully noticing how unusual she was.

Valas didn't know why he hadn't paid much attention to her appearance before, but her features were strange for a human. She was lithe and very angular similar to an elven build but she was a far cry from being an elf. He had attributed her odd pale skin color to her being malnourished, but he now believed that her skin was actually very pale, like she hadn't seen the sun at all in her lifetime.

"We will be on the surface tomorrow. You should know that the surface really isn't much different than down here. It is still a dangerous place, and being that you are only a child, I don't know how you intend on managing all by yourself up there. Have you even considered what you are going to be confronted with tomorrow?"

This time she did not look at him, she sat knees folded against her chest playing with her fingers. "I'll figure something out."

The numbness in the back of his head subsided and he felt his senses come rushing back to him like the oxygen rushing back to a set of lungs stifled by momentary suffocation. She had let him go.

"There," she said, "I can let you go now, I know you won't kill me, you haven't any reason to and you are not the type to go out of your way to kill someone for no reason, Valas Hune. I can trust you... slightly."

Valas didn't know what to do or say. He was afraid to do anything really. He feared saying the wrong thing would land him right back in her grip but he needed to know more about her. Lanie was a curiosity and he couldn't help himself.

"I know you have psionic abilities but there is more to you than that isn't there? You're a type of empath, aren't you?" he asked pointedly, "I know you have psionic abilities, given the way you were able to subdue me when we first met and judging by the way I found myself so emotionally entangled I assume you are able to project emotions?

She crawled over toward him, "if you say so, I don't like talking about it" she said without confirming or denying his assessment of her.

He followed her stare down towards his magically enhance back bag where his Kukris were resting. She seemed oddly intrigued by something she saw there.

"What is that?" she pointed toward the edge of a book that was barely visible from one of Valas's bags.

"That would be a book."

"I can see that Valas, but a book about what?" she questioned, "I like books."

"It's a collection of very ancient stories about Corellon Larethian." Valas explained.

"The creator of the elves? Lanie's eyes went wide with intrigue.

"Yes, the creator of elves and it tells of the times before..." Valas's voice trailed off with a hint of remorse to his tone.

"The times before your people were banished to the world below." Lanie concluded with a stare that felt as though her eyes were burning into his very soul. In her presence he felt transparent but he didn't feel threatened by it in the way his own psionicist master made him feel.

"Will you read some of it?" she pleaded with a youthful eagerness.

Lanie moved slightly closer to him, and he did not object, Valas no longer felt her as a threat, even with his own senses fully intact. He felt a certain pity for the girl and took comfort in knowing this feeling was on his own terms. He took out the book and began reading; she listened intently for a while before falling fast asleep.

"Lanie, you best get your little rear end up." Valas coaxed as he gave her feet a slight smack.

Lanie slowly sat up rubbing her eyes. She had fallen into a deep sleep and didn't even remember closing her eyes. Valas was leaning against the mouth of the crevice they had rested in. He was eating something and looking at her with a smile.

He handed her a small bowl of whatever it was, which to Lanie, looked like some sort of green goo. It didn't smell very good either, but after turning Valas's meals down during the previous days her hunger pangs had grown to a point she could no longer ignore.

"Go ahead child, take a bite, I know you need it. The grumblings and rumblings of your stomach while you slept sounded like the mating calls of rothe during breeding season!" Valas heartily. exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes at him and sat there staring at the bowl with contempt.

"Oh for Lolth's sake just eat it." He jested, amused by the faces she made as she considered the strange green grossness.

At his biding, she hastily took a bite of it and to her surprise it was quite good. She quickly devoured it and with a satisfied smile thanked Valas. He returned a nod and a quick wink then hustled down the ledge. Lanie stood up, brushed herself off and walked over to where Valas just stood and climbed down the rope. At the bottom she took his hand in hers but suddenly froze at the sight that confronted her.

The thrall's neck was slit ear to ear and left lying in a pool of its own blood. She tried to pull her hand from Valas's, but he held it tight.

"Where we are going, the thrall cannot, I feared you would not agree, what is done is done, and it had to be done." He explained as he kept walking, dragging her along by the hand, "furthermore, I will not tolerate you getting yourself inside my head again either, so you had best not be considering that."

"I'm not, I promise, but I wish you had asked me first before killing the poor creature. It didn't deserve to die," she said somberly, "then again, what you did was for the best, it wouldn't have survived without my will. It had no will of its own, no intent, other than to serve and protect its master. If I had merely let it go, I ran the risk of it bringing the illithids back to find me." She hesitated, and then looked up at Valas wearing an expression that told him she thought she may have said too much.

Valas considered her proclamation, again feeling unnerved by it. Why would the illithids be looking for her? Before he could ponder his question any further, he suddenly felt her pulling on his hand with an unbound eagerness towards the light ahead that was setting the tunnel ablaze, it was daylight in the world above. The closer they got to the surface the brighter the cavern tunnels became.

"Ready, set, march," she giggled with excitement, "I can't wait to see the surface."

He was intrigued by her sudden display of childlike behavior. It was comforting to know that she still had it in her and whatever troubles and torments she endured during her time in the Underdark hadn't destroyed it.

She was damaged, that was for sure, yet there was something truly innocent about her. There something naïve even, something he didn't want to see her lose, something he could appreciate and found quite beautiful. Valas also felt sad for her, as Lanie knew nothing of the world above, and he knew she would be disappointed.

Valas acknowledged a deep feeling of pity, of his own devising, for the young girl. He had grown slightly fond of her during their travels; he was even protective of her to some degree, even if their time in the dark was short and uneventful.


	4. Chapter 3 What Lies Above

Lanie quickly dropped Valas's hand and made rush for the entrance of the cave that led to the surface world.

"Lanie, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Valas warned too late, as if it would matter anyways.

He knew Lanie would be regretting her choice later on. She hadn't been exposed to sunlight in a very long time and it would take a while for her eyes to acclimate to the brightness. Unlike Lanie, Valas knew to wait until dusk before gradually emerging from the caves, he also knew that if he didn't a terrible headache would cause him much anguish later.

He stood back, protected by the shade of the overhang of the cave's mouth. He shielded his eyes with his hand, watching her for as long as his eyes would allow before the light caused him discomfort.

The sun kissed her face all the while tears streaked her cheeks as she forced her eyes open in a desperate attempt to see the world. The burning sensation was incredibly intense but she refused to shut them and when she forced her eyes to adjust she was left speechless.

The sky was bright blue and dotted with enormous clouds. The trees were wearing the fresh winter snow in their skeletal boughs. The cold bit at her bones but she did not care. Running up to the closest tree she reached out and touched the rough bark and looked up at its immense form. She had never seen such beauty before. It felt ancient almost God-like, it was humbling.

She saw tiny birds fluttering around the branches, some were red, some were blue, and a few were just black and they too, where beautiful. Her father read her stories about the surface world and even the words in those ancient books could not compare to the actuality of it all. She spread her arms and spun until she collapsed in the snow with a larger than life smile on her face.

Valas watched in silence, wondering if he would ever feel such a joyous moment in his life. He had lived centuries and couldn't recall a time when he ever felt such excitement, he felt the brief sting of envy which was short lived when he reminded himself of the mere fact that Lanie was in for a rude awakening.

He didn't want to be the cynic but he understood that the world above was not so different from the world below. All cultures had their dark side, and though the drow were noted for their cold-hearted cruel ways he had personally seen many humans deliver as brutal of a hand as any of his drow counterparts.

"Valas are you coming?" Lanie shouted from underneath the snowy canopy of a pine tree.

"Child, I choose to wait until the sun is lower, I won't be the one complaining of a malicious headache later on tonight. I don't think you are aware of what you have in store for you." cautioned Valas.

"How can I worry about the silliness of a headache with the splendor of this surface world? It is amazing Valas, I want to drink my fill of it!" she danced around in the snow picking up a packed ball of it and throwing it at Valas with a giggle.

He quickly dodged while admiring her arm and her aim, picking up a handful himself and nailing her right in the face.

"Ha, don't you tell me you didn't deserve that!" he retaliated while rolling another ball of snow in his palm. He quickly launched it in her direction, but this time she was ready and ducked behind a tree trunk.

The sun was setting and Valas found the light more tolerable. Everything around him was aglow in a palette of soft orange and reddish colors. Even Lanie seemed to shine, her pale skin soaking in and reflecting the colors of the surrounding environment. He found the sunset behind her set her two distinctly different eye colors ablaze. He recalled how he felt alarmed by the site of them when he first noticed, but now he found them truly beautiful, unique in fact.

"We will start heading toward Luskan, it will be dark by the time we get to our entry point into the city," Valas explained.

"Why do we have to wait until it is dark?" questioned Lanie.

"I gather by now you may have noticed that I have black skin?" Valas retorted with a slight hint of sarcastic disgust in his voice.

"Because you are a drow, you mean? The humans up here do not like drow? There are not many creatures that do like the drow are there?"

Valas nodded with a distant look in his eyes. He kept his pace brisk while Lanie's little legs were giving her some trouble in keeping up in the deep snow. A few times she found herself falling into the drifts but was quick to pull herself up and rematch her strides with his. She sensed that her questioning had hit a nerve with him.

"Valas, I am sorry if I upset you. I vaguely know of the relationships that the drow share with other creatures of the realm, and most of what I know isn't good. If it makes you feel better, I don't think you are a bad drow, you are just doing what you need to do in order to survive." She smiled at him.

He stopped and turned to regard her grabbing her arm and shaking her slightly, "You listen to me Lanie, the drow, my people, they deserve every bad name they get, and don't you ever forget that!"

Lanie tried to break away from Valas's grip but was unable. He only shook her again and continued her verbal tirade.

"My actions toward you have done nothing but mislead you; there aren't many drow out there who would have been so kind to you, regardless of your little mind games. You were lucky to have stumbled upon me. I know a few who would have destroyed you in a mere blink of an eye. I know of one in particular drow more powerful than any illithid you've come across and what he is capable of doing to you..." he trailed off without finishing that thought.

Valas watched the tears well up in her eyes as she stood there looking at him not knowing what to say. Most likely he had been her first substantial contact in a long time and because of this she had started to look up to him, even started to view him as a friend. He couldn't allow that to happen, he didn't want her to view him as anything but a means to get out of the Underdark. Most of all he couldn't allow himself to become attached or ever care about her. Memories of his own family flashed through his head but he was quick to dismiss them. Those memories, accompanied by guilt and resentment, were a part of his past; were secrets he kept safely locked away.

"Look, Lanie, I do not want to intentionally hurt you, but you need to know that you cannot simply think you can trust me or any drow you see. I am doing you a favor, remember? I didn't choose to place myself in this circumstance, you were the one who made all this happen and you need to remind yourself that I am doing this because you made me do it!" he explained.

Deep down Valas had grown to genuinely like her company while they traveled, but now that they were at their destination it would be time for them to go in their separate directions. He knew that the road ahead of her was going to be long and difficult; she had no one and was just a child, what was to become of her? He could only imagine, and his mind was running with dark thoughts about the possible outcomes that awaited her.

"Lanie, when we arrive in Luskan we will find a place to sleep and come the new dawn you can go your way and I will go mine. You can rest up and I'll give you a few items you will need on your journey and then we will be done. Is this clear? We will sever our ties and be done with each other," he curtly told her.

"Yes, Valas I understand" Lanie dejectedly responded.

Valas felt some relief in the fact she made no attempt to hold his hand again or resume conversation with him for the rest of the way. When they arrived at the Luskan gates in the early morning hours before the new sunrise they were met by two Bregan D'earthe mercenaries. Valas spoke with these two in thick drow dialect, while he exchanged something with one of the mercenaries. They calmly stepped aside as Valas tipped his head in a kindly gesture and motioned for Lanie to follow him.

She felt the mercenaries' eyes measuring her up; she could sense their curious wonderment at the sight of her. Lanie kept her head down and continued onward. She wanted so badly to look up and see the city but she was still dwelling on Valas's harsh words.

She knew that he was right; she knew he was only doing what she wanted him to do and nothing more. Still though, she felt a connection with him that she had not felt since her short time wandering the Underdark with her father. She cursed herself silently and thought about how different her life would have been if she were normal, or better yet, if she hadn't been born at all.

They made their way down a side street towards an older building. Its weathered stone and beams boasted the structure's age, probably one of the older buildings in Luskan. The climbed the rickety stairway to the third floor, walking down the aisle to the fourth door.

"Home sweet home!" Valas exclaimed with some virulence to his tone as he opened the door.

Lanie barged right in and looked around the room. She appeared to be interested in the room but by the way she was rubbing her eyes Valas could tell she was exhausted.

"You can have the bed." Valas told Lanie and he put some of his bags down in the chair near a dresser in the corner of the room. "I have no need for it at the moment; in fact I have to be somewhere before the sun comes up so the room is all yours."

He turned to find Lanie already sound asleep in the bed. She was young and the excitement of the day must have worn her out. Valas walked over to where she slept pulling a blanket up around her and tucked her in. He gently brushed back a small weft of hair from her dirty face and watched her sleep for a quick moment.

Valas silently entered the apartment room adjacent to his. There were four mercenaries standing erect and ready in the four corners of the room. There was a fire going and the flames cast the shadow of a familiar plumed feather and tip of a hat against the wall behind a big leather armchair.

"Valas my friend, it is good to see you once again," came the voice of his former master, Jarlaxle. "I have been residing in Luskan for a few weeks now. I couldn't help but stop by when I was told of your arrival."

"I am ever hopeful you may be here to tell me you are once again in control of Bregan D'aerthe?" Valas asked a hopeful expression marking his face.

Jarlaxle laughed heartily, "Unfortunately that is not the case my friend," he stood to acknowledge Valas, "Not yet anyway, soon enough, rest assured! I heard Kimmuriel called a meeting above ground, here in Luskan. A highly unlikely and unexpected move for Kimmuriel, things must be rather 'chaotic' down below as of lately, no?"

"I am afraid that I am limited on what I can tell you, Kimmuriel has been very guarded over the affairs of Bregan D'aerthe as of lately." explained Valas.

"Of course, I am glad that he keeps such information guarded, even from me. He is smart and he should be that's why I selected him to lead." Jaraxle boasted. "He has already told me some of what has been going on as of lately, so no need to worry about keeping secrets."

Jarlaxle took a bone toothpick out of his pocket, placed it in his mouth and returned to his seat.

"Kimmuriel is intelligent, I'll give him that, but he is a whole lot of other things that even an aboleth would find unsettling." Valas said with a wry smile.

"An aboleth huh? You would know." Jarlaxle added. "Speaking of that, we really need to look into fixing your 'situation' sometime soon."

Valas shot him a disgusted look that immediately told Jarlaxle he had crossed a line. It was no secret to Jarlaxle that Valas harbored a grudge about being selected to assist his sister, Quenthel Baenre, on her journey into the Abyss in search of Loth. He survived that ordeal but came back quite affected by it, not only emotionally but physically as well.

Suddenly what little hair Valas had on his arms began to rise and a slight burning sensation could be felt across his skin. Both he and Jarlaxle noticed the air suddenly grow thick and black on the back wall, spreading from the ground upwards toward the ceiling. A teleportation hole vibrated in anticipation of the three forms about to enter through.

Kimmuriel stepped through first, flanked by two Bregan D'aerthe clerics. He nodded towards Jarlaxle not seeming the least surprised to see him. Valas always found Kimmuriel's foreboding presence very unnerving. Kimmuriel strode over to the black mahogany desk and promptly sat down cocked his head and directed his attention directly toward Valas.

Kimmuriel did not need to say anything, out loud or telepathically, Valas knew Kimmuriel was expecting his report on the recent activities in and around the ancient city of Chaulssin. Bregan D'aerthe had been keeping a long term eye on the Chaulssinyr over the years at Gromph's demand and were being paid handsomely by the mage.

Lanie was crouched in the corner of the room with her ear firmly pressed against the wall. She could vaguely hear Valas's voice discussing something about shadow dragons and the new regrowth of Chad Nasad. She heard other voices as well and still wanted to know more.

Curiosity got the best of her and sitting back on her heals she pressed her hands to the wall and began concentrating, slowly projecting her mind's eye into the adjacent room. She concentrated on Valas and was able to channel herself into his head and see through his eyes.

There was a drow with a funny looking hat and unusual clothing sitting in an armchair chewing on a bone toothpick and looking vaguely interested in what was going on in the room. There were portentous looking guards with weapons sheathed at their sides; deadly looking weapons that Lanie had never seen before.

There were two in ornate robes who stood adjacent to one another behind another who sat. There was something about the seated drow that left Lanie feeling uncomfortable. After studying these drow she decided it was time for her to take Valas's words seriously.

Valas felt the tingling sensation between his brows, he assumed it was Kimmuriel, he watched the drow psion cock his head oddly to the left, similarly to how he had witnessed Lanie cock her head. It must be a psion attribute he thought, realizing that thinking about Lanie in Kimmuriel's presence could bring much danger to the young girl. He quickly started filling his mind with images of Chausslin and Ched Nasad hoping it would be enough to keep Kimmuriel from discovering Lanie.

That cold stare of Kimmuriel's was intense Valas could feel it at his very core. Kimmuriel sat there with no expression with his head now tilted to the right. Jarlaxle, obviously knowing more about Kimmuriel than any other must have noticed something was awry, for there was a fixed a look of suspicion upon his face. Valas met his stare then looked back at Kimmuriel. It was obvious to him the two were sharing a private telepathic conversation.

"Is there something wrong?" Valas questioned hesitantly.

"No, not at all," Jarlaxle smiled while adjusting his eye patch over his right eye and bowing slightly towards Valas, "I must be on my way now."

Jarlaxle turned abruptly on his heels and headed towards the door. Valas returned his gaze toward Kimmuriel but unexpectedly found Kimmuriel standing right in front of him, nearly nose to nose. Not saying a word, Kimmuriel brought his left index finger to the center of Valas's head and stood there in silence with such a strong concentrated focus that Valas hoped the floor would open up and swallow him to a new plane of existence just to escape the uncomfortable situation.

His face, black as finely polished obsidian¸ was fiercely angular and his blood red eyes pierced right through Valas's and right into her. Horrified she watched as his pupils spread swallowing the entire red of his iris, growing still to consume his eye whites leaving only two ominous black orbs. A trait common to many psions and Lanie knew right then and there she had been discovered.

Awestruck but frightened, she sensed his sheer power all the way into the very fiber of her being. She heard the door to the apartment where she was open but she couldn't move to see who the intruder was, she was utterly defenseless. He had her in such a grip of raw psionic energy that he could easily kill her whenever he chose to. She felt herself slipping away into the darkness of her mind. The world around her felt as though it was falling away from her. Lanie could hear Valas's voice pleading for the drow to stop.

It was then that Valas figured out what was happening. He felt the very pit of his stomach grow sick. There was nothing he could do; he knew the girl was doomed. He had led her into a situation that would destroy her. He should have just turned her loose in the city the second they breached the walls. She would have been better off on the streets than at Kimmuriel's mercy.

"Kimmuriel, she is just a child. She means no harm. I don't believe she fully understands her own abilities." Valas begged, all the while noticing the guards around him drawing their weapons, ready to strike at Kimmuriel's command. Dread hit him as he came to realize that helping the child could also prove to be his demise. It was a mistake he should have never made.

At first, he was in a state of high alert, however, when he was able to project through Valas, a wave of feminine naïve innocence ricocheted back at him, awakening his curiosity. This strange creature could prove to be a very valuable research subject in his own studies. Kimmuriel spoke not a word; his expression didn't change as he merely shoved Valas aside walking right through the wall and right into the adjacent room.

He stood before her dressed in simple fashion, a form-fitting full length black coat, tapered at the waistline and the buttons covered in a rich black velvet fabric that ran down from a prominent collar to his mid-thigh. He also wore black fitted pants and black armored boots also without ornate design. His white hair was neatly tied back with a piece of black leather into a half ponytail.

He had no weapons, no charms, nor any trinkets adorning any part of his person. Not even one ring on his finger, in fact he wore not a single piece of jewelry at all; an oddity for any drow, an oddity for most elves and denizens of the Underdark. For Lanie this meant one thing and one thing only, he was extremely powerful and it was his way of boasting.

Her limbs began to awaken and the cloudiness in her head lifted. The drow released her from his mental grip but kept a keen eye on her as he studied her. Circling her in a manner similar to a predator after trapping its prey, waiting for the opportune moment to deliver the final strike before consumption could begin. He crouched down relatively close to her and brought his face down to her level, locking eyes with her, she tried to look away but he would not allow it. Lanie watched as his pupils began to expand again.

He was delving into her mind, reading her memories, she couldn't feel it, but she knew what he was doing. There were not many psions with mind reading abilities that could do so without the host perceiving any sort of sensation, another testament to his power. She focused on the mental blocks she had been trained to create to keep her darker secrets locked away. She held her own against him, though, it was obvious to her he was nowhere near pushing as hard as he was capable of. She concentrated hard trying to read him, trying to delve inside of him and gain perspective. She sensed his arousal at her attempted mental intrusion she sensed he welcomed it; abruptly she stopped fearing she went too far.

Jarlaxle, witnessing the strange display of psion interrogation, started to feel the intensity of the silence lingering in the room, like the calm before the storm. The small girl let out a pitiful whimper as her body went rigid and Kimmuriel began to lift her off the floor with his energy. She began crying and even from where he stood, Jarlaxle sensed she was experiencing pain.

She was so young, so innocent, so easy to torment, it excited Kimmuriel. The things he could do to her! Kimmuriel could feel the terrified girl reach into herself and begin transmitting energy and no sooner had she done that did Valas come barging through the door with both Kukris drawn lunging straight for an unprepared Jarlaxle, the closest target.

All within mere seconds Lanie found herself dropped to the floor as a wave of energy exploded forth from the drow psion and sent Valas slamming into a table, shattering it instantly. Jarlaxle also suffered minor impact from the blast which left him on the floor slightly dazed and confused. He was quick to pick himself when he heard the screams of the child.

"Valas, Valas, Valas, you killed Valas." Lanie made a mad dash over to where Valas's unconscious body lay. She climbed over him and buried her head in his chest.

"Please don't be dead Valas, I am so sorry." She pleaded her forgiveness over and over again. "Valas please get up."

Jarlaxle rushed to his favored scout's side while Kimmuriel made a swift move to grab the child up by her hair and drag her back towards the center of the room. She struggled against him and he delivered a swift hard backhand that sent her head reeling against the floor momentarily leaving her stunned. Kimmuriel brought a knee to her chest pinning her beneath him as he clutched her slender neck in his hands.

Having bit her tongue from the sheer force of Kimmuriel's strike Lanie was left gurgling on her own blood as the drow psion shook her back to consciousness. When she became more aware of what was happening she was met with the most sinister smile she had ever seen, and that was when he started squeezing her neck. She grabbed at his wrists but could do nothing. When she began to lose her grip on consciousness he stopped again, waiting patiently for her consciousness to return, when it did he resumed squeezing.

Kimmuriel was limited to most feelings but one he did enjoy was the thrill of snuffing out the life of an inconsequential being with his bare hands. Being human, this child was most definitely inconsequential. Her psionic ability captivated him immensely and he was eager to dissect the child and get at her brain, take it apart and see how it worked. He watched with no hint of emotion on his face as the child struggled for air and her eyes rolled back as she fought to retain her consciousness.

He was suffocating her and she was choking on her blood. She could feel the liquid red oozing from the corners of her mouth as she tried to cough. She tried digging her nails into his wrists but to no avail, she tried to talk to him, reason with him but could force no sound from her mouth. His grip slackened and then tightened again and again, for longer durations each time.

"Kimmuriel Oblodra, that is enough, let her breathe," demanded the other drow.

In her fight for consciousness she heard a familiar name, 'Oblodra,' it was familiar to her, but she could not place where she had heard it before. He either had sensed her recognition of the name or he momentarily considered the other drow's demand, and his grip went slack. Kimmuriel did not break his stare with the girl whose pathetic tears were streaming down the sides of her face. Her crying nearly disgusted him as much as the mere sight of her did.

"Please d-d-don't kill me," she stammered.

Lanie was grossly outmatched and would not be able to subdue Kimmuriel with any of her psionic abilities. Still holding his wrists and taking advantage of the momentary pause she focused her emotions into an empathic projection. Wanting him to feel what she felt, hoping to influence his hold over her. There was nothing there, no depth, no soul, just an empty, cold, cruel, shell of a creature.

He let go of her neck grabbing her by the side of her head bringing her forehead to his own, "Foolish child, a play on my emotions will get you nowhere."

He titled his head with a newfound curiosity stroking the sides of her face gently with his thumbs, again a wicked smile danced across his lips as he carefully studied her and looking deeply into her strange eyes.

He continued stroking the sides of her face and brought her forehead up to his again. Interesting it is, that you have such an empathic ability, it explains a lot and Laenaia Manaallin I know what you are, he said telepathically as he let her body fall to the ground. He stood up and turned his attention towards Jarlaxle who still trying to wake Valas from his state of unconsciousness.

Lanie hustled up as quickly as she could, making a run for the door, but the drow with the funny hat got there first blocking her only exit. She back pedaled slightly and ran over to the window. She climbed up onto the sill of the window pressing against the pane crying out in despair. She was doomed there was no way out.

Lanie's survival instincts were now in overdrive, she turned from the window to eye Jarlaxle up and down in an attempt to measure him up. Jarlaxle found himself in a state of disbelief; he quickly shot a sideways glance over to where Kimmuriel stood. Kimmuriel only offered a slightly raised eyebrow and no other reaction. Kimmuriel appeared to be enjoying the poor child's panicked state.

Jarlaxle looked back towards her, noticing she had very pale skin, a near milky white complexion like sculpted soapstone or white marble, with darker hair that fell in loose but snarly curls towards the ends. She had strange beadwork woven in amongst a few braids, and her clothing was dirty and tattered. She wasn't just human, she was different, she was something more, and this intrigued Jarlaxle greatly. He had a hunch about her.

Be careful with that one her, abilities are quite impressive despite being human, came Kimmuriel's telepathic warning.

You shut up! You filthy beast rang the child's telepathic voice through both their heads.

Stunned Jarlaxle shrugged at Kimmuriel in a state of confusion. True to fashion Kimmuriel stood there seemingly unsurprised and stony faced. Even if he didn't show it, Jarlaxle knew there was a high level of intrigued under his expressionless exterior. To Kimmuriel, she was nothing more than a potential study for his research, a mere plaything who when the novelty wore off, would be quickly disposed of.

"Just what type of abilities are we talking about?" Jarlaxle asked Kimmuriel, this time in drow.

"The type that will get you killed if you don't let me go fool," the child declared in near perfect drow.

Jarlaxle crossed his arms and stared hard at her. Sheer contempt filled her eyes as she glared at him. Abruptly she turned her back to him and began watching the street below slowly awaken to life with the coming dawn. Valas had promised that the new dawn would mean it was time for them to go their separate ways. How she wished that promise could be fulfilled now.

Jarlaxle carefully studied her as the rising sun broke over the horizon and the city with its glittering skyline not only illuminated the tears streaking down her face but also her two different colored eyes which Jarlaxle could now see clearly. So striking they were with the light hitting them that even Jarlaxle found himself momentarily speechless.

"What is your name?" Jarlaxle asked in a language that even Kimmuriel did not recognize.

She slowly turned to regard him and it was apparent she understood him, but she did not offer an answer, she returned to staring out the window, both her hands and forehead pressed onto the glass.

"How old are you?" he coaxed her again in the same language.

Lanie did not turn to acknowledge him but held up two small hands showing a count of eight fingers.

"I am this many", she whispered in perfect Roushoum, the tears still streaking her cheeks as she continued to speak in her native tongue, "the city comes to life with the rising of the sun. It is beautiful. The city and all its living components work like a story in a book and everybody has a part to play, a character to be- their specific role in life," she turned towards Jarlaxle.

"You," she spoke directly addressing him and he took quick notice of her eyes again before she turned back toward the window, "and the rest of them out there in all the corners of this world, all those people-human, orc, drow, and others, you all have your roles so perfectly rehearsed. You all play them so well. It doesn't matter what city you live in, because really in truth all cities are all the same and all roles so similar. Valas was right it is no different up here than it was down there. It is just as cruel and just as difficult to survive here."

She paused pressing herself harder against the glass and letting out a small whimper between another rush of tears, "All of it so beautiful to me, even the ugly."

Her hands streaked down the window and her body shuttered under the weight of her inner agony, "I haven't a place in this world, I haven't a role to play, I am a freak, and I don't belong."

This time she looked at Kimmuriel telepathically speaking only to him, and you, you just need to be put out of your misery. You're wretched and demented- you're ruined, and you let them ruin you. Does that not make you weak? She noticed it then, a virtually undetectable wince crossed his face revealing to Lanie she had hit a nerve.

"It sickens me to think we have something in common." She finished out loud in drow still holding a fixed stare on Kimmuriel.

Kimmuriel made no attempt to respond to the child instead he entertained thoughts of various torture techniques he would 'kindly' bestow upon her when the opportunity presented itself. However, he was caught extremely off-guard by how vulnerable this child had made him. Vulnerability was a foreign feeling to him and he couldn't be sure if it was a genuine feeling of his own devising or not, and he didn't like that.

He couldn't be sure of this child's strength, not combined with an ability he wasn't able to understand on a level most sentient being could. He felt a lack of control in this situation and this was very unnerving to him, in fact it enraged him, all he understood was his immediate burning desire to kill her. He wanted her dead he needed to be rid of her. Her words stirred long forgotten memories, memories he thought he had eradicated from the fiber of his being.

"What would you like me to do with her?" Kimmuriel asked Jarlaxle intentionally out loud.

It was one of those rare times in his long life where he was at a loss for words. He had very little dealings with children, drow, human, or other, they were a foreign subject to him, Jarlaxle didn't quite know how to approach her and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Jarlaxle rolled back on the heels of his boots as he considered leaving, but something in the pit of his stomach told him not to. Was it pity? A feeling quite contradictory to what he normal would have felt. He knew there was something more to this child and he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Let it go Jarlaxle, those feelings are not your own. She is projecting onto you. Kimmuriel's voice entered his head this time accompanied with a tingling sensation that told Jarlaxle Kimmuriel was closely guarding their private conversation.

I do not feel any mental intrusions, other than your own Kimmuriel, and yet you tell me my feelings are not genuine. I have already noticed the poor thing has absolutely no magic ability which is extremely abnormal for her people. So Kimmuriel, do enlighten me as to how this young girl is having such an effect on me. Jarlaxle paused and eyed Kimmuriel.

For her 'people'? Kimmuriel said with a hint of suspicion pausing briefly for an explanation but Jarlaxle offered none.

Kimmuriel had already scoured her mind and was interested in knowing what Jarlaxle was able to ascertain with his limited perception. Sometimes he considered how much more powerful Jarlaxle could have been if he too also possessed psionic abilities. Kimmuriel found the thought disturbing and was quick to chasing it out of his head.

She has a very rare combination of abilities; in addition to her psionic abilities she has empathic psychic abilities. I am afraid that such abilities, when combined, not only make her unstable but weak as well. She runs the risk of hurting herself and others. She is a potential liability for those close to her. Kimmuriel partially lied.

He knew she could successfully master her abilities and had the potential to be quite powerful, but she would not be able to do so without training. Without learning how to master self-discipline techniques and combined with her 'emotional' weaknesses her powers would consumer her.

His family spent numerous hours rigorously training and developing their psionic ability. They even employed skilled illithids and his mother had also used the help of a certain powerful aboleth to aide in the training of her progeny. Any display of emotional weaknesses were routinely beaten out of an individual, however in this child's case, one cannot simply remove empathic psychic abilities with an abusive hand.

Jarlaxle sensed a feeling of eagerness in the words that Kimmuriel spoke. It was clear that Kimmuriel was itching to get his hands on this child. He was greatly interested in her even if he didn't display that eagerness overtly. Jarlaxle looked once again at the girl. She was staring at them both, a look of fear dancing across her face. She knew her fate was being decided and all Jarlaxle had to do was leave the room and leave her to Kimmuriel.

"Her name is Laenaia Manaallin," came Valas's voice followed by a series of slight groans as he pulled himself up off the floor rubbing his head, his ears bleeding from the psionic blast.

"She likes being called Lanie," Valas said shooting a nasty look at Lanie, "Here I took her promise seriously when she said she wouldn't get in my head again. I had no control over what I did, that wasn't my choice"

"We are well aware of that." Jarlaxle said as put his hand up to silence Valas from further explaining himself.

"It is as I suspected," Jarlaxle mused while rubbing his chin, "Manaallin is a deep imaskari name and coupled with her usage of Roushoum, confirms she is indeed deep imaskari. How very interesting indeed!"

Lanie glanced over at Jarlaxle, but her concern was for her friend Valas. She felt horrible for what she had done to him.

"Valas I am really sorry, I was scared. That wretched drow psion was hurting me. I didn't know what else to do Valas. Please forgive me, and please don't let him hurt me again, tell him I am not bad, tell him I won't do anything bad, just tell him I want to be let go. Please Valas." The girl pleaded.

"And I don't know what this strange looking drow wants with me either." She continued pointing at Jarlaxle. "You know I just wanted to get to the surface, why won't you just tell them that?"

"Strange looking?" Jarlaxed chimed obviously insulted.

"Yes, strange looking! I haven't ever seen a bald drow with such funny looking clothing." She scoffed.

"The only thing that is strange looking here is you!" he quickly snapped back.

Lanie felt the sting of his statement and dropped her eyes to the floor. She had made a grave mistake in coming to the surface. The only place she wanted to be was back in the tunnels of the Underdark alone with her thrall captive. She should have just stayed where she was, but she was stupid in believing the stories her father told her of the surface. She missed the Underdark immensely, nothing bothered her there and if something did, the thrall was quick to take care of it. She looked toward Valas but he offered no condolences only a look filled with anger and resentment.

You are better off alone for there are few that would ever understand the thing that you are, a memory of a gurgled voice belonging to a certain illithid echoed through her mind.

Lanie thought of her mother whose death came as a result of a magical experiment that went horribly wrong. Her mother rarely acknowledged her but in her dying breath made her father swear on his life that he would make sure Lanie survived. Her father was the one constant she ever had in her life and he was the only person who ever made her feel loved.

Her people were cold and cruel towards her and just like her mother, chose hardly to acknowledge her. Lanie, due to her unique abilities and her intelligence was able to retain all of her memories from the time she was born. She was also an incredibly fast learner but she had no ability to use magic. Her people found her lack of ability in the magic arts alarming. They were further terrified by her empathic psychic abilities, so much so, that they had come together to demand she be destroyed.

Her father, Talnein Manaallin, was given two choices, to stay and allow Laenaia to be destroyed or to leave with his daughter to live in the world outside their secret realm. He made a promise to his dying wife that he would do whatever he could to keep their daughter alive. Once they had their minds magically excised of their homeland location both Laenaia and her father were set free in the Underdark.

His intentions were to bring Lanie to the surface where they would live out the rest of their lives, but that never happened. They were captured by a small group of illithids within days of leaving their homeland. Lanie was barely two years old when she was forced to watch her father's torture and eventual death. Once he was out of the way, the illithids brought her to a secret location where they began experimenting on her.

The experiments were brutal. She swallowed back a lump in her throat and squeezed her eyes shut tight all in a hope to push the memories out of her head. She steadied her breathing and brought her mind back to where it needed to be. Opening her eyes she realized the drow with the funny hat was now sitting in the chair closest to her.

Quietly Jarlaxle sat watching her in awkward silence. She wiped her tears off her dirty cheeks with her sleeves and met his gaze. The light catching her eyes brought life to the kaleidoscope of colors he found there. Her left eye was golden amber with bright blue chips within the iris, while the other was an extremely pale blue with chips of amber emanating like flames from around the pupil. In the blue eye, webs of white laced together the edge of her iris with the white of her eye. It was hard to tell where the blue of her iris began and the white if her eye ended.

At first glance it was freakishly startling but uniquely beautiful. Jarlaxle noticed how the child looked downward hiding her eyes from him, embarrassed by her strange flaw. Jarlaxle was then reminded of a certain drow who had unique colored eyes, one who also found himself out of place in the world, and with that thought slow smile broke across Jarlaxle's face.

"Everything and everyone plays a purpose in this world," he whispered in Roushoum just loud enough for her to hear.

"Kimmuriel take Valas to your clerics and have him tended to, let's make sure you didn't do too much damage to our best scout, besides the two of you still have matters relating to Bregan D'aerthe to further discuss. I am going to take Lanie here to get a bite to eat and then get her cleaned up. She is a mess and could use a good washing, and a new dress." Jarlaxle declared.

A sudden look of disgust found its place on Kimmuriel's face but he did not argue.

"Is that okay with you Lanie?" Jarlaxled asked. He stood up and offered the child his hand.

She looked at him with suspicion then turned to look at Valas, whose face revealed a look of relief and that was all she needed to see to know she would be okay. Kimmuriel was staring right at her and she glared right back at him, taking Jarlaxle's hand and directing a rather devious smile towards Kimmuriel. She knew it bothered him a lot more than he showed it.

Be ever vigilant with that one came another one of Kimmuriel's guarded telepathic warning.

Oh, but I will Kimmuriel, my friend, I will, and when I am done being so vigilant, the girl will be all yours, Jarlaxle winked a tipped his hat towards Kimmuriel as Lanie and he stepped out the door.


	5. Chapter 4 The Inner Void

He sat in the dark comfort of his personal space. It was a place no one but his former master Jarlaxle knew of. He watched them through the scrying glass on the desk in front of him, studying the young child with a growing intensity. Lanie had unnerved him, she had stirred up old memories, memories that aroused an inner beast he had long ago caged and controlled.

But now this deep seated rage he locked away within the core of his being was suddenly restless, it was threatening him for release. He focused his mental energies on calming himself, tapping his fingers, and counting his breaths, all in an attempt to find the strength to tame the rage, gain control again, and put the beast back to rest.

His childhood made him the monster he is. Kimmuriel Oblodra was just five years old when his structured training in the psion arts started and when the abuse began followed by his rapid descent into the darkest depths of his being. His childhood was a nightmare, even by drow standards. The torture he endured through at the hands of his mother, sisters, and the illithids in his mother's employment was simply cold hearted and beyond cruel.

K'yorl Odran, the house matron and Kimmuriel's mother, passed her psionic abilities to all of her children. Kimmuriel was her only son, that in itself was a curse, but when it was revealed during his training that his potential was greater than K'yorl's own and any of her daughters' she grew angry and fearful of him. K'yorl took great care in reminding Kimmuriel of his station in life, employing extreme torture tactics; ones that left scars in various places of his body, some that nearly made a eunuch of him.

Breeding was of the upmost importance to K'yorl, she was continually trying to add to and improve upon the psionic abilities within her house. Even so, however, castration was a step K'yorl utilized for all males born within house Oblodra displaying any psionic ability. A select few were kept unaltered for breeding purposes to enhance the trait and keep it strong within the bloodline, then castrated later.

K'yorl often acquired handpicked females from outside sources to breed with her chosen male psions. Any children born of these pairings with the psion trait were kept, all others were sacrificed. These females breeding captives were kept for four cycles of breeding and then quickly destroyed. They were destroyed immediately if they were infertile.

K'yorl too great care and pride in her breeding program, ensuring only the best psionic traits possible were passed down the line. K'yorl, her daughters, and those employed by her were responsible for making sure no males or females bred outside the house. In doing so this kept their psionic abilities closely guarded and cared for within the Oblodran line.

Though she fear him immensely, Kimmuriel was one such chosen male. K'yorl knew his power had to be utilized even if it bothered her. She kept him under watchful eyes at all times because she saw the potential power he brought to her house and the Oblodran bloodline. But after centuries of such extreme torment he was ruined, he had become a wretched twisted being and the mere sensation of someone getting close enough to touch him was enough to drive him mad. Kimmuriel doesn't allow anyone to touch him in any way, lovingly or otherwise.

Then one day he simply snapped, he had been pushed too far by his oldest sister, suffering a terribly devastating mental break. He saw black and still cannot recall what set him off or what happened during that time span. Three weeks of his life he lived in mental darkness unable to recall a single moment of it.

Apparently, according to Jarlaxle, during the first day he wreaked such havoc inside the Oblodra compound that five of K'yorls strongest psions were instantly killed and even K'yorl herself was wounded, though only superficially. It was Jarlaxle who had found him wandering the Underdark just outside of Menzoberranzan and managed to draw him out of his dark rage. It was Jarlaxle who gave him a new life and a mutually beneficial friendship- the likes of which he had never known before.

He allowed his fingers to trace the line of a scar on his chest as his thoughts roamed further. His physical scars are the memories that he keeps hidden in secrecy. Any other drow would of had the scars magically erase, but for Kimmuriel the damage was done, why erase their physical nature when their memory ran much deeper? Nothing could erase that.

His index finger continued following the jagged line of one of the many fibrous tissue mounds that webbed across his torso, his back, parts of his arms, and in areas he wished they didn't. He reminded himself of the comfort and satisfaction that the ritualistic torture of others, especially women and illithids brings to him.

A brief thought of the child entered his mind and he contemplated what he would do to her. With that a wry smile cracked his lips as he remembered his family's demise, of which he played no small roll in. Jarlaxle had taken great measures to afford him the opportunity to do so.

The one time he ever felt pure euphoric excitement was at the site of his house falling into the rift along with the wretched drow of the Oblodran household. In that moment, hidden high in a shadowed perch of a cavern wall, he felt as though he shed his skin of the past- he felt free for the first time in his life.

He considered all that Jarlaxle had done for him even before the fall of his house and quickly refocused his attention back on the scrying glass, watching that female child with a heightened hatred. He was already sensing that Jarlaxle had a purpose for her and he wanted no part of it. That child with her unique abilities posed a threat to Kimmuriel, he could feel it. Having another psion in his midst was an uncomfortable situation that he didn't want to be bothered with.

The strong mental walls he constructed in his mind over the centuries held a strength even the most powerful illithids were hard pressed to break through. But this child was different; there was something terrible about her. And yet for a drow whose emotions run cold he found a chord of fear rang within him, sounding off a warning that told him this child needed to be destroyed. He hadn't felt a damn thing in centuries and now he was truly feeling something. He was unnerved and as he finished scrying he saw his own face reflected in the surface of the mirror and with that sight came one thought, the child reminded him of himself.

The Tall Toad was full of good spirits and good food. Jarlaxle had eaten there once before not too long back while travelling with an acquaintance. However on this evening he felt the piercing stares of other patrons grow more intense than that night, but didn't let the feeling bother him too much. He had grown accustomed to the way drow are perceived by the surface races but he still did not find comfort with it.

The little girl was clutching his right wrist with both hands as they wiggled their way through the tables towards the only empty one. He noticed how she walked with her head down so no one could see her face and the way she allowed her long hair to fall forward so that her locks would cover her eyes. When they sat down at the table she pulled her chair closer to his, tucked it in and placed her forehead on the table and sat so she could keep her eyes on her feet.

"You look downright silly sitting that way," he cautioned, "too many people here taking notice of how you are sitting, and my presence here is already questionable in itself, now I have you besides me looking sickly or worse, disturbed. Do me a favor and sit up and at least make a valid attempt at manners. I know dwarves who have better table manners than what you currently display. We should have a stopped to get you washed up and new clothing first." he complained.

She looked up at him with an apologetic smile which was emphasized by the sadness in her eyes. She really looked pitiful in her dirty torn clothing, snarled hair, and black dirt caked under her fingernails. Jarlaxle could tell she was a pretty little thing beneath all the grime.

Lanie had an angelic soft expression; he could have mistaken her for a surface elf by her build, which was unique to the imaskari. Her features were angular however, a far cry from the harsh features of the drow. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls that the human children played with and she looked about as fragile too.

"How about after we eat we get you cleaned up in and in some better clothes?" Jarlaxle said

"Okay, but I don't want to be loud in my clothes like you are" she was quick to exclaim.

"Loud?" he questioned.

"Yes, loud! I don't want to stand out. I don't want anyone to notice me. You stand out, with your big feather hat, and gaudy bright colors."

"Gaudy?" he shot back at her, "and here I thought I was being nice bringing you a long with me, and treating you to a nice meal and this is how you show your gratitude, by making fun of my attire?"

"Well you are not dressed like any normal drow I've seen before. Nor any normal person for that matter" She declared again for the second time.

Jarlaxle contemplated that remark, she was right; he was a far cry from a normal drow and wondered just how many other drow this human child encountered in her young life for her to make such a declaration.

"I'll let you slip by on that one." He winked at her just as a Halfling waddled up to their table with sourdough bread.

Jonar rudely dropped the bread basket on the table with a look of disgust aimed toward Jarlaxle.

"Listen drow, your coin is just as good as any other here and times are rough I need to be getting what I need to keep this establishment going. I don't want any trouble from you or else I will have to ask you to leave and take that odd child with you." He scoffed.

"Looks like the establishment is doing fine from my perspective, quite busy." Jarlaxle retorted.

"You know what they be sayin', can't judge a book by its cover, and with things bein' the way they have been in Luskan, I have had to severely drop my costs, because folks here just aren't bringing in earnings, and I am seeing mine dwindle as well. The cost of food and supplies alone are on the rise and I can't be going much longer like this. Trade hasn't been good in these parts lately. No doubt your kind had a little something in doing with that." He said eyeing Jarlaxle coldly.

"There be but two things on the menu today, Lamb Pocket, and Beef Stew." Jonar sourly announced not giving Jarlaxle a chance to retort.

She could feel them, their emotions as if they were her own. All of them, the patrons in The Tall Toad, they hated Jarlaxle, they hated drow, and they found her questionable because of her association with him, because of her eyes. She could hear their thoughts clearly in her head and she wanted to silence them all.

The sharp pains in her head had only been growing stronger and were lasting longer. She found herself having to try harder and harder to control them and maintain her composure. She just wanted to disappear somewhere never to be found, a place where she could just melt away into nothing, where there would be no pain. At least this time the pain wasn't accompanied by a nose bleed.

iLook at those hideous eyes on that child. She looks sick with some disease that the drow must have infected her with. He can't be trusted, especially him, look at the way he is dressed. I just wish they would be gone. I hate those wicked creatures here, most stay in the shadows, but that one with the eye patch walks around like he owns the place, like he wants us to notice him./i

Their thoughts were chiming through her head ricocheting out of control off the confining walls of her skull. She was aware of their thoughts the very second she and Jarlaxle had entered the Tall Toad but her awareness had heighted as their stay in the Tall Toad continued. It was beginning to drive her mad and she was trying her hardest to control herself.

This was her first time since she was three that she had been in group consisting of more than three beings. The last group she had been in were all of Illithid biology and they kept their thoughts and feelings strictly to themselves, she never had to worry about blocking them. Lanie did not have the experience to block out more than one person at any time. That required a lot of focus and skill.

Luckily, Jonar had returned to the table with their food and that alone provided enough distraction for her temporary relief. Jarlaxle took note of the young child's nearly insatiable appetite. She downed her Lamb Pocket in seconds. What he didn't know was that the consumption of food was giving her temporary respite from what was going on in her head.

"Are you going to eat all that?" she questioned eagerly eyeing the beef stew Jarlaxle still had left.

He nudged it over to her, "Have at it little one," and just as she reached for the spoon, he pulled it back, "but you will have to first tell me more about yourself. I am curious, Lanie, I want to know why you are here?"

The little girl sat back in her seat and studied Jarlaxle before she leaned forward whispering, "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"I don't think that I should and I don't trust you," she hesitated slightly before continuing, "I am not sure if I ever will. You are not the trusting type."

Jarlaxle raised his eyebrow at that remark and even felt the slight sting of truth behind it.

Her eyes matched the intensity of his. She was seeing right into him, she tilted her head awkwardly not once pulling her stare away from him. He could feel it and with a thought he activated his eye patch as he slid his beef stew over to her and sat back watching her curiously. She was an intelligent little thing.

Luckily though, for Jarlaxle, she was young and impressionable and he was very patient. He had all the time in the world to unravel her mysteries and discover the scope of her abilities and thanks to Kimmuriel; he knew that could be done sooner than later.


	6. Chapter 5 A Prison of Secrets

Valas sat on the edge of the apartment bed with his head in his hands. The psionic blast he absorbed from Kimmuriel left him seeing flashes, dark spots, and not to mention a strange numbing sensation across his scalp and within his head. Kimmuriel's clerics were able to stop the hemorrhaging from his ears but weren't the bit interested in exhausting their abilities any further in completely remedying all his pain.

Such is the nature of the drow, Valas thought to himself. Had he been feeling better he would have noticed Kimmuriel making his entrance, uncharacteristically through the door of his apartment. The psion stopped for a moment, observing Valas with momentary satisfaction, always the suffering of others was of great intrigue to him.

His ebony fingers traced the hard edged line of the dresser at the front of the room as he made his way over to Valas. Kimmuriel was not trusting of his fellow Bregan D'aerthe scout, this child, Lanie, was not adding up in his mind, and there were many unanswered questions rumbling around in his own head that had him restless. Questions that even his psionic abilities couldn't answer for him. He was growing impatient with Jarlaxle; he wanted him to be done with the girl. Kimmuriel was desperate to get his hands on the young imuskari.

"I am ever curious to know how your connection with this girl came about," Kimmuriel spoke with his usual monotone voice. "But I must confess, I have already scoured your mind and found amongst the discrepancies there, enough pieces of a most interesting puzzle to figure it out."

He briefly paused and sighed lightly before dropping to one knee in front of Valas, tilting his head to the side in a bird like movement. Valas hated the wretched psion, and how uncomfortable he made him feel, with his odd mannerisms and the way he spoke with carefully nuanced words. Empty words, purposely chosen and crafted to give an illusion there were real emotions being expressed within them.

Kimmuriel's words were just as empty as he was and Valas found that to be very unsettling. The scout could not even bring himself to meet Kimmuriel's eyes. Valas felt completely naked in the psion's presence and the vulnerability that came along with that feeling was equally as unnerving.

"She found you; she projected herself upon you, claiming she needed help to the surface. Valas, I have read her mind, the parts I have been able to. There are mental blocks woven in amongst her memories. I am trying to detect if these mental blocks are of her devising or implanted by someone else. I am inclined to go with the later." Kimmuriel explained, bringing his right hand to Valas's chin and directing Valas to look him in the eye as he spoke.

Kimmuriel used peculiar contact methods to further intensify the discomfort others felt when dealing with him. There was no one who would dare touch Kimmuriel-and anyone who did, wasn't alive to tell about it. The drow Psion tilted his head to the opposite side while a slight sinister smile danced across his lips. He stood up and walked over to the head of the bed throwing back a pillow to reveal a brown tanned leather satchel embroidered with cave creeper vines.

Valas's heart sank, knowing its contents could spell a certain disaster for Lanie. It was already clear to him that Kimmuriel was threatened by the child. This thought did deeply disturb Valas as Kimmuriel is considered by those who know of his existence to be one of the best psions in the realms. Even the powerful drow mage, Gromph admitted to that on more than one occasion, and that is no small testament to Kimmuriel's skills. The fact that a child was causing him so much grief was more than a bit alarming to Valas.

Kimmuriel pulled loose the drawstrings on Lanie's bag and carefully inspected its contents; a look of great displeasure crossed his face. He tossed it on to the bed and turned rubbing his chin with his left hand all the while his eyes burning into Valas.

"I am interested in the contents of the bag Valas," he paused, "however they are shielded from me as are those memories in your mind. I know you know what she hides in there, I can feel it. I want those missing puzzle pieces Valas."

Kimmuriel brought his index finger to meet the center of Valas's forehead, "I know this is no work of your doing, so why don't you begin telling me what secrets your mind hides from me."

Slowly tapping his finger against Valas's skull with a tempo deliberately exaggerated to further the discomfort of the interrogation. Valas was feeling quite unsettled and if that wasn't bad enough, Kimmuriel suddenly leaned forward to grab him by the sides if his head before continuing the conversation telepathically. The pain the scout was already suffering in his head didn't favored the telepathic conversation at all.

i"Valas, you are going to tell me, you are going to fill in the gaps for me. You understand don't you, how greatly disturbed I am at the thought of an eight years old child who has thoughts locked away in her head that even I cannot get to? The things that she is able to do are quite impressive. Someone had to train her, someone quite powerful." A noticeable look of unease crossed the drow psion's face/i

Kimmuriel sat down on the bed with Lanie's satchel flipping it over and over again in his hands, all the while cocking his head right and left in that same disturbing bird like motion. He didn't look away, keeping an intensely focused gaze fixed on the satchel, and sinking deeper into his own thoughts.

Valas felt a fleeing sense of relief at the sight of Jarlaxle entering the apartment, dragging Lanie behind him, who was once again, lost in tears.

"I am not sure what in the nine Hells her problem is," Jarlaxle complained, "but she had a complete mental breakdown when I tried to get her cleaned up."

Valas looked at Lanie, who kept her head down and was gasping for air between sobs. She looked far worse than she did when they first arrived in Luskan. No doubt she was suffering a headache the size of a giant from her first encounter with the sun and additionally the backhand her face took from Kimmuriel. With that thought, Valas stole a sideways glance at the psion who was studying the girl intently.

"She went absolutely berserk when we tried to get her cleaned up and out of these dirty clothes of hers." Jarlaxle complained, with a sour expression upon his face as he looked her over

"We?" Valas swiftly interjected.

"Yes, we! Lolth knows I don't know a damn thing about children, Valas!"

"You mean other than the act that goes into making them," Kimmuriel quipped back without taking his eyes off her, "let me guess, those human whores at the local brothel couldn't help you clean her up?"

"Well yes that would be the case, as I am sure you already know, in fact I am pretty sure you were keeping a mental eye on us the whole time! Maybe you'd care to let me in on why she got all frenzied like she did, or maybe you'd like me to take a wild guess then, Kimmuriel? "Jarlaxle scoffed. "I have a notion, but it's nothing you would want me to share aloud."

Kimmuriel's stare met Jarlaxle's with an angry intensity yet, like always, the remainder of his face was blank. Valas knew nothing of the inference to which Jarlaxle was hinting and knew better than to inquire. There was a lot of history behind their relationship. Kimmuriel had revealed on a few occasions that Jarlaxle was his "friend".

He once referred to Rai-guy as his "friend" as well, but Valas knew that both Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel had cleverly played the wizard, with a plan that promised his demise. It was Crenshinibon that had nearly destroyed their initial plan, leaving the logical minded Kimmuriel to support Rai-guy instead of Jarlaxle.

It was known to Kimmuriel and Valas long before Crenshinibon had entered the picture that Jarlaxle wanted to take a sort of hiatus from running Bregan D'aerthe and had persuaded Kimmuriel to agree to taking over command with Rai-guy while he was away. There was a time when Valas had feared Jarlaxle would put him in command with Kimmuriel and he wanted none of that and openly admitted it and by the gods he was fortunate enough to have been able to escape that duty.

They all knew, Valas included, that Rai-guy would not be pleased with the decision of Kimmuriel being in co-charge. The wizard wanted control of the band for himself and would never share power. He wanted to turn Bregan' D'aerthe into the right hand of Lolth, serving the queen and Jarlaxle would not have that. Without a doubt, chaos would ensue amongst the ranks of Bregan D'aerthe if the wizard were to have gotten his way. Jarlaxle worked too hard in creating the group and would never allow it to crumble.

Together they worked on a plan; Kimmuriel had cleverly placed a trinket on Rai-guy's robe so Jarlaxle could spy on him to determine just how much of a threat he would be. Obviously Rai-guy was power hungry and the shard's interference didn't help matters and Kimmuriel didn't favor having to go against such a powerful mage in Jarlaxle's absence.

When Jarlaxle became influenced by the shard, Kimmuriel used his logic absent of all emotion when deciding to align himself with Rai-guy. Knowing that the shard would most likely destroy both Jarlaxle and Rai-guy anyways. That left only Berg'inyon Baenre who was no match for the Psion and could easily be disposed of or utilized in a most terrible fashion.

Luckily for Jarlaxle all things worked out in the end and though he felt the sting of Kimmuriel's betrayal, ultimately however, he knew Kimmuriel had made the correct decision and the most logical one that could have been made to keep Bregan D'earthe operating the way it was intended to. Still though, as punishment for his betrayal, Jarlaxle forced Kimmuriel into running Bregan D'earthe as its only leader instead of appointing two.

Jarlaxle knew he could count on and trust Kimmuriel's logic in all matters, hence the reason he put him in charge. Yes, Valas knew there was a deep understanding and some sort of twisted kinship between the two of them. The hatred Valas had towards Kimmuriel was misplaced, it was fear-based, this he understood, even though, he still disliked the psion immensely.

Suddenly, Valas was startled from his dark thoughts as Lanie toppled over, the result of Kimmuriel throwing her satchel at her. The hit she took landed her flat on the floor face down but she was quick to get up and Jarlaxle was quicker yet at grabbing her arm, making sure she didn't take a mad dash for the door.

"Empty it child!" The Psion demanded, "Empty the contents of that bag now."

Lanie stood stunned, but refusing to look at Kimmuriel. She had her eyes squeezed shut and her lips strongly pursed together. Kimmuriel in a very rare display of enraged furry grabbed at her and shook her hard.

"Empty it child! Now!"

With a slight motion, Jarlaxle bade Kimmuriel to calm down and step back, while he lowered himself to Lanie's level.

"Child, you need to open that bag, you need to do as Kimmuriel asks, and your life depends on it. Don't you understand? Jarlaxle coaxed her to look up at him, cupping her chin in his left hand. He wiped a tear away from her cheek and offered her a warm smile. "Please child, do as he commands."

Lanie lifted her head to regard Jarlaxle; she could tell he was making a valid attempt at being genuine towards her. He continued to wipe the tears from her eyes with a piece of cloth he took from his vest pocket.

"You err in showing this child your sympathies and understanding dear friend." Kimmuriel scolded.

Jarlaxle didn't acknowledge the psion, instead he took Lanie's head in both his hands and kissed her forehead and spoke to her in Roushoum, "I can only help you if you listen to what I am saying, I can save you Lanie. You can trust me. You know that, I know you know!"

Lanie studied Jarlaxle's face, with a look of consternation plastered on her own. She knew what she had to do. Slowly she backed away from Jarlaxle and picked up her satchel and walked over to the bed and carefully emptied its contents out. The bag was enchanted to somehow recognize her as its sole owner and to only obey her commands, whether spoken out loud or telepathically.

Valas drew a deep breath as the two illithid brains fell free, one rolling off the bed and onto the floor, only to be stopped by Jarlaxle's foot. He scooped it up and closely observed the strange bone spike stuck right up through the bottom of the brain. He started to pull on it only to have Kimmuriel push him back and grab the brain from him.

"Not a good idea." The psion cautioned.

Jarlaxled waited for an explanation but Kimmuriel didn't offer any, instead his gaze was lost to the object he saw on the bed. Valas didn't recall seeing that before. If a drow could turn white then Kimmuriel would have been a ghost. It was a rare thing to see any form of emotion expressed from the psion and it was clear to everyone in the apartment, he was completely unnerved and acting quite uncharacteristically.

What is it?" Jarlaxle asked.

A long needle like instrument adorned with filigree metalwork at one end rested on the bed. Lanie maneuvered herself behind Jarlaxle and start to slowly walk backwards towards the door. She was nearly there when she felt Valas place his hands on her shoulders.

"You're not thinking of running are you Lanie?" Valas whispered in ear, with a hint of an unspoken threat laced in.

Before she could even muster a reply, her body instantly went numb and she felt the psion's full strength fill her body. Like being crushed from the inside out, her lungs denied the air she tried to inhale, her eyes wouldn't focus, and her voice was stifled. He consumed with his sheer energy alone and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

He circled her slowly as his mind searched deep within hers, yet she had mental blocks that he could not unlock and he found it incredibly aggravating. Kimmuriel had never before met such difficulties in a "lesser" being and he knew she simply didn't have the training or strength to manage what she was hiding on her own. He quickly dispelled his connection and Lanie fell to her knees gasping for air.

"Who sent you here? Who is helping you?" his interrogation began.

"No one, I told you, I am only coming to the surface to find a new life."

The enraged psion grabbed Lanie and pinned her down on the bed. He flipped her face up and squeezed her neck with his left hand as he drew the strange instrument up against her cheek with the other hand, and the very second it touched her flesh she felt it burn. Kimmuriel could feel it throbbing in his hand, eager with anticipation to draw her psionic energy from her like a mosquito draws blood from a host. All he had to do was press it into her and he could destroy the child.

His logical thinking won, it usually always did, and he steadied himself, gained his composure with a thought, and stopped. Jarlaxle was more than just relieved to see the psion settle himself. He hadn't seen Kimmuriel this undone since he found him wandering the Underdark bloodied and in a complete mad rage centuries ago. Jarlaxle understood the deep emotional scars that ran their course deep within Kimmuriel, they are the foundation of the cold unkind, uncaring creature he is now.

Tell me child, who is this Labrum Needle intended for? Who sent you? He released his grip on the girl, stepping back and inhaling deeply.

He cocked his head slightly as she made eye contact with him, he could feel her open up to him mentally. He could sense her innocence in the situation. Kimmuriel then recognized his own disappointment, he had wanted her to be guilty of something, he wanted a reason to completely destroy her, or a reason enough to convince Jarlaxle, as the psion knew he didn't need a reason; he didn't need a justification to kill her at all.

I stole it." she admitted in a tone threaded with a touch of remorse.

"Whatever for child?" Jarlaxle was quick to ask.

"I wanted to get to the surface, I wanted a new life, and I wanted to get rid of it. All of it!"

"You stole it to get rid of it?" a confused Valas piped in.

"No, not to get rid of it, to get rid of what's in me. I was going to use it on myself. I don't want to be like this, I don't want to be different and so hideous. I don't want people to fear me anymore. I don't want to hear them in my head all the time, I don't want to feel them, and I want it all to stop." Lanie was growing more frantic as she continued.

"I can feel those monsters all the time and I hate it," she yelled in frustration as she grabbed a fistful of hair on either side of her head and started rocking back and forth while pulling hard on her hair. "Those constant gurgles and long hums, I want it gone." She screamed.

Lanie got up and started pacing around the bed in a manic state of despair. She was talking but not making any sense.

"What's wrong with her? I have not ever seen her like this, not while we were together." Valas asked finding Lanie's sudden mania very disturbing.

"This is how it started when I tried to get her cleaned up and in new clothing. She simply freaked out like this, crying, hitting herself in the head, and not making any sense what-so-ever." Jarlaxle answered.

Valas started walking toward Lanie, but Jarlaxle grabbed his arm, offering him no explanation for the sudden restriction. Kimmuriel was sitting on the bed studying the girl carefully, very carefully. Her unusual display of manic behavior wasn't so unusual to him and he understood perfectly well that her mind was trapped inside a prison of secrets beyond her control.


	7. Chapter 6 Every Tenday For Two

"She's dangerous. She is not what you think she is." Kimmuriel explained to Jarlaxle in the adjacent apartment.

"Tell me friend, what exactly is it, that I think she is?" Jarlaxled asked sitting down abruptly in the chair by the fire which he relit with a thought using a magic device in his vest pocket.

"An opportunity," Kimmuriel said dryly through cold eyes, "an exploitable opportunity."

"Ah, I cannot deny, you know me well my friend, very well." Jarlaxle confirmed with a proud smile crossing his lips.

"She's not worth it." Kimmuriel argued.

"You and I both know how wrong you are. What is it that you are not telling me about her?" Jarlaxle asked the psion. "Why does the young thing threaten you so?"

Kimmuriel studied his former master intently. Secrets were difficult even for a psion such as himself to keep from Jarlaxle. He sat back placing his feet up on the desk taking a deep breathe and rubbing his temples with his thumbs.

He wanted to convince Jarlaxle that the girl was better off dead, he wanted to rid himself of the discomfort she brought to him, the discomfort that even Jarlaxle was picking up on. He did not like the idea that anyone could get a read on him, even his former master.

The psion understood these thoughts were coming from a place deep within him, a place he thought had put to rest centuries ago. This child was exposing his weaknesses to himself and he understood he had to get himself under control or these emotions would consume him and leave him vulnerable to outsiders. Logically, he knew she was a valuable tool, she was young and impressionable. At her age her ability was already astounding and there was potential there to further her abilities. She needed strict and regimented training.

"You should teach her." Jarlaxle exclaimed suddenly as if he were reading Kimmuriel's mind.

Kimmuriel rocked back violently as if hit by some unforeseen force, his feet hitting the floor with a loud thud. He rocked upright in the chair and looked at Jarlaxle with a blank expression not knowing what to say, wondering if he had even heard the drow right. He cocked his head in a most curious but obviously flustered fashion.

"That's right you heard me correctly, " Jarlaxle repeated a second time as he placed a new bone toothpick in his mouth. "She will be worth your while that I can assure you," he finished with a wink.

Jarlaxle wanted to laugh at the dumbfounded expression that crossed his psion friend's face but managed to steady his composure and disguised what would have been a laugh as a cough.

"You will take her and train her to the best of your abilities and," he paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully," you will not harm a hair on the child's head. You will be her master, you will craft her into a valuable tool. There will come a time we will need someone like her."

Jarlaxle's expression suddenly went cold, "You know what I am speaking of."

It was true, Kimmuriel did know what Jarlaxle was referring to. The illithids hadn't been a visible force in centuries, being too absorbed in their experimentations and scientific studying for centuries. In recent years, however, they have become increasingly involved in many areas of drow, human, and other creatures lives, both above and below the ground.

Lanie was an exact result of that experimentation and Kimmuriel wondered just how much Jarlaxle truly knew about the child. There was a whole lot more to this Laenaia Manaallin than she was letting on. Jarlaxle was very clever and cunning and wise beyond all accounts, but Kimmuriel doubted Jarlaxle knew what he did . Kimmuriel studied Jarlaxle who was deep in thought staring at the fire.

i"I know enough of about her, Kimmuriel."/i He said telepathically making clever use of his eye patch, the very eye patch Kimmuriel had created a hundred times over, making it stronger each time. Kimmuriel had long been working on his metacreativity abilities and had employed numerous clerics to study and learn from them.

He carefully observed their magic and applied certain aspects of what he learned to improve upon his own psionic skills. Kimmuriel despised magic in general and knew that what could be done with magic could be learned and tailored to psionic ability and improving upon his metacreativity was proving very useful to himself and to the prosperity of Bregan D'aerthe.

When the psion became more powerful than the clerics he employed he would simply "rid" himself and Bregan D'aerthe of them. He smiled at the thought of Rai-guy, who had mistakenly trusted Kimmuriel as a "friend."

Kimmuriel did not deny the fact he enjoyed the viciously brutal attacks that he a Rai-guy spawned on so many innocent victims, but Rai-guy was after all, was only a tool for him to use and eventually destroy. This child with her dark secrets hiding just within reach, was just that, a tool!

He wanted to get in her head, he wanted to see what was so kept so guarded. She could help him improve upon his own clairsentience abilities and area of weakness- the psion despised admitting he had any weaknesses. The fact he could not break totally through Lanie's mind only convinced him how terribly he needed this child to improve upon his own skills. But for now he saw it as a temporary annoyance that he would soon remedy.

He was ever evolving in his own abilities, ever studying and practicing. Kimmuriel was always desiring to be better than what he was at any given current state. This quest has become the driving force of his life. It is all a "dead inside" creature like himself had to live for.

"I run Bregan D'aerthe and now I am also to babysit a child?" Kimmuriel spat, wanting to see where Jarlaxle was going with this notion.

"Every tenday you will have her for two so you wouldn't have her all the time, in fact, I mean to have Valas take her for the majority of the time. He has developed a fondness towards the child, as she has for him. She needs time above the surface and I want her to develope the social skills you are hardly capable of teaching." Jarlaxle declared adding insult to injury before continuing.

"Let's be frank my friend, try as I might, I have not be overly successfuly in eradicating that xenophobic nature of yours. If I can truly call it that, as you seem to hate everything and anything including your own race. Your social skills are nearly non existent and are only cleverly moulded on instinct alone and not in actuality. Feeling is not your strong point.

This imaskari child serves a purpose, this I know, and like I have told you before, the point of Bregan D'aerthe is more than just for survival, it is to grow in power. Lanie's abilities, like your own, have the potential to bring more strength to our purpose.

Arguing was futile, Kimmuriel knew that Jarlaxle was already set on getting him to take the child. The psion did not underestimate the value this child had for Bregan D'aerthe and for himself. He would have to mentally prepare himself for the task of training her, accepting her into his care was no small step for the highly elusive Kimmuriel who preferred the majority of his time being spent alone.

The psion's eyes met Jarlaxle's, "If I am to take the child I want her initially in the beginning for at least nine tendays. That should be sufficient enough time for laying down boundaries with her and training her to meet my demands and expectations, besides Valas is coming off a long job and would appreciate some well deserved time to himself. Then we can discuss the tenday rotation."

"Agreed then, you will have her," Jarlaxled said, feeling the anticipation in Kimmuriel. He knew that the psion was all too eager to get his hands on her, "Kimmuriel, you are not to lay a hand on her, is that understood?"

The psion acknowledged Jarlaxle's final request with a cold stare.


	8. Chapter 7 The Deeper Your Scars

Valas was laying on the bed with his hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling lost in deep thought. He could hear Lanie splashing around in the basin tub in the far corner of the apartment. Jarlaxle had magically filled it and requested she be cleaned and dressed before he and Kimmuriel made their return. The imaskari child was humming a most unusual song however pretty it was, Valas found himself drifting in and out of reverie as he listened.

When she stopped humming he looked over in her direction. She was holding her right arm up and watching the beads of water run down from her wrist to her elbow where they gathered before dripping into the water. She seemed to be dazzled by the way the candle light set each little bead of water aglow against her pale skin.

The light playing off her skin was quite beautiful and Valas noted the interesting way it webbed on her back and parts of her shoulder. As he studied her, a sickening feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, he realized what he was looking at upon her back were not water droplets but scars. The poor child had scars in very distinct patterns up and down her back.

He sat up and made his way slowly over to where she was bathing. As he got nearer to her he was able to see patterns of circular scars running their course on either side of her spine. There were incised patterns near the back of her rib cage and from where he stood he could tell they continued around her sides to the front of her body.

The pragmatic Valas Hune did what he had to do to survive. In the process of surviving he had witnessed and turned a cold shoulder to many horrific circumstances. He had killed many over the centuries of his life and stolen more things than he could remember, but he wasn't completely cold and unmerciful. Even he could not stand the thought of a child being tortured and it was evident she had been tortured over a long course of time. The older scars had healed over to form clear fibrous mounds while the newer scars still showed purplish blue pigmentation.

"Valas I told you not to look at me, you said you wouldn't look at me." Lanie yelled out when she realized Valas was standing right behind her. "I didn't want you to see."

She brought her knees up to her chest to further hide herself. She didn't want him to see her horrid scars that covered her flesh. Valas took a knee by the side of the tub and gently brushed back a wet lock of hair from the child's cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into her knees and once again began sobbing.

"Lanie who did this to you?" Valas asked, already knowing the answer he would get.

"The illithids and" she trailed off not finishing her reply.

Suddenly a repressed memory as gut wrenching as the scars that marred her body became remembered. Somewhere in the depths of her soul she recalled that familiar name, Oblodra, and her blood ran cold. Rocking herself back and forth in the tub she began counting her breaths out loud in an effort to stay calm and keep from hyperventilating.

She felt Valas gently stroking the back of her head shushing her in an attempt to calm her down. She couldn't bring herself to tell him what she just remembered. Without lifting her head she began pleading for his forgiveness she had found something in Valas she hadn't had since her father, she found friendship and comradery, and that meant more to her than anything in the world.

"Valas I didn't mean for you to get hurt and I am sorry I broke my promise and controlled your mind again, but I was afraid, and I just wanted to get away, I wanted to" Valas cut her off before she could finish.

"Child, I am not happy about what you did, you nearly got me killed, but I can understand why you did what you did. I forgive you, it is okay, just calm down. There is no need to worry any more, let's put it to rest." He issued a sincere smile as he spoke and continued stroking the back of her head.

"I can't get the braided snarls out of my hair and I am not sure if I want to." She wiped away the last of her tears. "My father was the one who put these beads in my hair and I haven't ever taken them out since. They have been in my hair now for five years."

"And it looks like they have been in there for five years. We need to get them out Jarlaxle won't like it in the least if you leave your hair looking like a rats nest."

"He doesn't like hair much at all does he?" Lanie quipped, "Like I said before, I haven't ever seen a bald drow before."

Valas gave a hearty laugh, "For sure, I haven't really seen one myself, other than Jarlaxle. I am still figuring out why he does it other than erasing any formal station amongst drow."

"You mean you don't know?" Lanie asked raising both her arms again, watching the water run its course their entire length. She repeated the motion looking towards Valas with a rather devilish smile.

"You know why he shaves his head?" Valas questioned with a look of intrigued plastered on his face.

"Oh, I know why, I saw it in him; I know why he does a lot of what he does. I can't tell you though, it isn't my place, it wouldn't be right. If he wanted you to know, you would know, but you don't, so he doesn't want you to know. I am sorry Valas I cannot tell you. Kimmuriel knows Kimmuriel knows everything about Jarlaxle. Everything!" She spoke as she cocked her head to the left while studying Valas.

""Do you like to swim Valas?" she asked again.

"What? Why? If you think I am getting in a tub with you, you are out of your mind." He snapped back uncertain of the way she just seemed to jump subjects. Or did she jump subjects? He had a suspicion that she was purposefully alluding to something. He quickly let it go and carefully started cutting the end of one of Lanie's ratty braid with his dagger.

"Don't lose my beads Valas, they are important to me."

"I won't just hold still." Valas said as he delicately sheared off the ends of her braids carefully gathering the loose beads. He helped Lanie untangle the matted braids framing her face; chunks of caked dirt falling away clearly it had been a long time since she had washed herself.

"Give me your hands Lanie," Valas ordered, "He took the tip of his dagger underneath her nails on each finger removing the grime that had collected there. Jarlaxle will more than likely give you the once over look, he is very particular about cleanliness and looks."

Lanie began laughing at that last statement, "Then why does he dress like that?"

"Well he is a most interesting individual, isn't he?" Valas chortled.

"Yes he is," her eyes met Valas's and she continued to speak, "so much more than what he alludes, and yet your gut runs cold at the very sight of Kimmuriel, if only you truly knew Jarlaxle. I fear Jarlaxle most of all."

Awkward silence swallowed the humor from the air. Valas asked not a single question more and Lanie offered no further explanations. She got up and climbed out of the tub, Valas seeing the full extent to which the scars covered her boyish prepubescent body. She made no attempt this time to hide herself; she didn't see a reason to.

"I hate them." She exclaimed as she traced her finger along the edge of one scar that ran a just above her hip.

Valas grew very uncomfortable a slight cringe crossed his face when he noted the scaring on her upper thighs particularly around her genital area.

"What monsters." Valas exclaimed under his breath.

"It is why I got so upset when Jarlaxle wanted to get me cleaned up. I didn't want anyone to see." Lanie said as she pulled the deep blue velvet dress over her head.

"It's understandable Lanie, but don't let your scars define who you are. I once heard it said that the deeper your scars, the more room there is to fill them up with love. Don't hate your scars, appreciate their depth." Valas said.

He stopped for a second amazed to hear himself say what he said. It was totally uncharacteristic of his drow heritage, or was it? A fleeing memory of his mother's face danced through his mind.

"That was a beautiful thing to say." She said with a curious expression upon her face.

Lanie had never heard a drow speak of love under any circumstance. The drow didn't even have a word for love in their language; in fact most denizens of the Underdark didn't acknowledge its existence.


	9. Chapter 8 Dig Deep

Lanie sat at the desk opposite of Jarlaxle; he had his feet up and was playing with one of his daggers. She was mesmerized by the shiny blade and the way he flipped it with such ease back and forth between hands. With a flick of his wrist he was able to flip the blade up over the top of one hand letting it slide into the other. The mercenary let the blade dance between his hands a few more times before letting it drop down blade first into the wood of the desk.

"I have discussed at length with Kimmuriel what we should do with you. I am sure I don't have to tell you his thoughts on the matter." Jarlaxle said.

Lanie said not a word but sat focused intently on the drow. She had a sense of dread growing in her stomach at the realization that her fate was being settled for her, yet again. The surface world was supposed to offer her a new life and with that new life was the promise of freedom. She wanted to run as fast and as far away as her little legs could carry her in that moment, but that simply was not an option.

"Relax child, it isn't as bad as it could be," Jarlaxle replied seeming to understand the thoughts she harbored.

"Kimmuriel has agreed to take you into his care and training and that is in itself is a testament to your potential." He said trailing off into a whisper before he had time to think about the implied meaning of that statement.

"A testament of your ability to manipulate you mean! And potential, potential for what exactly?" the eight year old child snapped. "I have always been a tool for someone, or something, I am always the experiment. When do I get a choice for myself? When do I get to live for me?"

Lanie looked right at him and in that moment it felt almost as though her eyes were burning a hole right through him. She was a stubborn little thing and smart, very smart indeed. He didn't know how or what more to say on the subject and the only valid argument he could give her was one that would spark desperate fear in her, as cruel as it would be, it was his only option.

"They are hunting you Lanie. The Labrum Needle you stole, isn't just any needle, it is as Kimmuriel puts it, impossibly powerful. It is the best of its kind, the only one of its kind, and one simply does not steal such a fine tool from the illithids without repercussions."

He had hit is mark with those words as a look of disquietude found its way to her face, "That's why I was going to use it and then lose it, they wouldn't have known."

Jarlaxle raised an eyebrow at the naïve response she gave; she wasn't fooling him or Kimmuriel. He brought a black velvet pouch up from his lap drawing the Needle from it and placing the instrument on the desk between himself and Lanie.

"They would not have known? They would not have known?" He questioned twice over before continuing, "They are Illithids, one never questions what is or is not known to them. They know Lanie. They know!"

He narrowed his eyes and sent a threatening look her way, "Trust me child, they will find you and it isn't a question of where or how, but when. Will you be ready for them when they do?

He paused giving her ample time to respond, however she said not a word.

"We can help you Lanie." Jarlaxle ascertained.

Jarlaxle picked up the needle and held it before him, rolling it over slowly appreciating its unique craftsmanship. The drow could sense the deep internal conversation the young girl was pondering over. She was running, that much was obvious and how a child her age could outsmart the illithids was beyond his guessing. He sensed how much the poor thing hated everything about herself. Lanie held a lot of guilt and responsibility for the events in her life that was no small measure of weight for her to be caring. He knew she blamed herself for her father's death.

"What were they doing to you Laenaia Manaallin?" Jarlaxle asked.

Sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms in a defensive manner she refused to offer an answer.

"What purpose did you serve for them?" he fished again.

Her angry stare locked with his, as a single tear fell from her one blue eye, "I cannot remember." She lied and he knew it.

A long moment of silence thickened the air between the two of them. The powerful drow mercenary never imagined he would ever find himself in such a conversation with a child. He could have been cruel and unmerciful in his pursuit of the information he wanted but that wasn't as important as getting Lanie to trust him. He needed her to trust him and it didn't matter to him how much time it took.

Lanie placed her elbows on the table resting her face in her hands, a face that now wore a defeated expression. She no longer looked at him and that angry emotion that sparked the fire in her eyes simply was gone-drained empty in an instant. In that moment she reminded him of the young Kimmuriel but he didn't dwell any further on that thought.

"I don't care what you do to me then, kill me if you must." She whispered in Roushoum just as Valas and Kimmuriel entered the apartment.

There was a very noticeable scowl upon Valas's face. Kimmuriel watched the him march over to where Jarlaxle was seated, seeming to find a particular joy in the scout's dismay.

"I signed on to be a scout, to be of a good use for Bregan D'aerthe, I worked my way up from the bottom, was that not enough? Now I am to be providing childcare for that thing." He spat in drow as he pointed toward Lanie.

_That thing_, those words tore through her core and the shear hurt she felt from hearing the scout's sentiments spoken out loud was indescribable. She had found a friend in Valas, whether that was a mutual friendship or not, she genuinely liked him. Sadly however, she understood that much of the way he had treated her was only due to the influence and control she had over him with her projected emotions. Still though, she had projected any emotions on him since she was discovered by Jarlaxle and Kimmuriel. Had his kindness towards he earlier when she was getting cleaned up been feigned? A rouse just meant to provide some small measure of comfort for her during this predicament she found herself in?

She looked down at the new bracelet on her wrist- the one Valas had made for her from horsehair and the glass beads that once adorned her hair. He knew how important those beads were to her he understood that they were all she had left of her father. The scout had created something truly beautiful for her and Lanie wasn't responsible for any of the emotion that inspired him to do so. Those emotions were truly of his own accord.

She hadn't prepared herself emotionally or mentally for how attached she would become to Valas in the short time she knew him. She had seen glimpses of who he was when she first scoured his mind. Valas wasn't like most drow and this outburst of his was certainly contradictory to the way he had treated her, however it was an exemplification of the chaotic nature of the drow. Somewhere repressed at their very core were the remnants, those strings and strands of what they once were prior to their fall. It would make sense that on rare occasions those repressed emotions would surface.

Yes, Lanie thought, somewhere deep down in the fiber of the collective drow's soul was the slightest trace of what they once were before their evil selfish ways and hunger for power consumed them. Valas was no exception, he was pragmatic and he did what he needed to in order to survive in a violent society. For Valas the context of right and wrong was ignored, but not lost to him. Within Valas there was a conflicted dialogue that left him questioning many things. It was no wonder Jarlaxle favored him so.

Lanie considered the three dark elves in the room realizing that they were very different from the drow she had encountered previously in her life, even the despicable drow psion, Kimmuriel. There was a rhyme and reason to who Jarlaxle had selected to be a part of Bregan D'aerthe, there was a key purpose to those individuals and they were all playing a part, whether they were aware of it or not. While many members were no doubt just fodder, there were those members who held a significant importance in Jarlaxle's eyes.

She smiled briefly in acknowledgement of Jarlaxle's tenacity and the care he took in creating his mercenary band. What none of the drow knew, other than Kimmuriel, was she had already read into them without them even being aware of it. It was second nature for her, like breathing, it was that easy, even the silly eye patch Jarlaxle wore did little to prevent it. She didn't need to be in their minds, she could feel their thoughts through their emotions and the way they projected them.

Valas was still in a tangent and Jarlaxle had yet to get a word in, instead he sat back, putting his feet on the desk with his hands behind his head in a most arrogant manner. This only seemed to agitate Valas more and seeing her friend so upset about the whole situation caused her great alarm.

"He doesn't have to take me, he doesn't want me. Don't make him take me. I am not his responsibility. We made a promise that we would be done with each other once we got to the surface. He doesn't deserve being told he has to watch over me like I am some baby. It is not fair far to him." She pleaded.

Valas paused briefly to acknowledge her with a minor show of remorse crossing his face upon realizing Lanie had heard what he said about her. Jarlaxle however, did not pay the imaskari child any mind at all instead he sat staring at Valas with a huge grin on his face. Jarlaxle knew the scout held a certain amount of pity for the child and with this pity Jarlaxle saw his opportunity, as he always did.

The mercenary understood just how easy it was going to be for him to convince Valas to take part in her training. This tantrum of Valas's was only providing a temporary respite and Jarlaxle did nothing to stop it, in fact he was finding it all too amusing. It wasn't often one got to witness a drow so unraveled, especially one such as Valas, who was normally calm and collected in the most dire of circumstances.

Kimmuriel ignoring emotional debacle was leaning on the wall arms crossed, just behind Valas, but in full view of Lanie. He had been studying her intently since he walked in and he was all too eager to get at her. He straightened and walked over towards her with that empty look of his. She hated him as much as she found a certain comfort in him. She could always feel to some extent everyone's emotions and sometimes even their thoughts especially if they didn't know how to guard them, doing this was beyond her control, it just came naturally.

Jarlaxle had his eye patch and a few other trinkets on him that she could sense and it seemed even Valas had acquired a new trinket or two since their arrival, no doubt given to him by Kimmuriel. Those items did nothing to prevent the emotions their bodies projected. She had highly acute empathic abilities and often times other peoples' emotions bombarded her relentlessly. That is why she found a certain solace in Kimmuriel's person. He had nothing to project he was void, he was silent. That was the one of the first things she noticed about him.

When she was a captive of the illithids, it was the same way. They kept their thoughts and emotions highly guarded. Most were very skilled at controlling their minds however some illithids found it challenging to not project emotions, particularly those having just completed ceremorphosis. It was difficult learning how to control a new host body with all the memories and feelings that already resided in it. Harder still was the control it took to keep an illithid larvae from completely consuming the host's brain. Lanie shook that thought off immediately, having forgotten that Kimmuriel was now crouching down beside her.

She turned slightly to regard him, his eyes cold, head tilted to the right, and his focus was extraordinarily intense. Instantaneously a slight numbing sensation could be felt in her fingertips. Slowly the strange tingling sensation crept up through her arms until her head felt warm and fuzzy. Lanie tried hard to focus her eyes on the psion but whatever he was doing to her did not permit it. As her sight blurred further she became aware of a sharp ringing in both her ears and she could no longer hear the ensuing discussion between Valas and Jarlaxle.

Kimmuriel was carefully delving into her mind and he wanted her to feel it and with that sensation came a heightened awareness of just how truly powerful the drow psion was. His strength was enormous and could easily rival many of her former captors, alhoons included. So intense was the energy that he was projecting onto her that the hairs on her arms were standing on end and some of the fly-away strands on her head were turned upright, she could even see a pale blue aura emanating from her skin.

_I can see you for what you are,_ came Kimmuriel's telepathic voice, _I can see you for what Jarlaxle cannot. _

He allowed her vision to return and she could now focus on himbut the numbing in her head only intensified. _You are a creature of great intrigue, _he continued all the while tracing her face with his left index finger then bringing her face closer to his own,_ and you will let me in, all the way in._

Lanie suddenly leaned in evencloser towards him and in immediate distrust he pulled away, but only for a split second, he grabbed the sides of her head pulling her forehead to his. Lanie was terrified and tried to back off but Kimmuriel had complete control of her now and she felt his energy expanding within her head. Even with the torment he knew she had suffered unmercifully in the hands of the illithids there was an innocent quality to her that drove him mad. He wanted to kill it, to snuff it ou- he wanted to rape her of this weakness.

His mind momentarily consuming hers and his eagerness in wanting to know her secrets was building. She wanted to let him in, in fact she was desperate for him to unlock what she could not, desperate to purge herself of the things she no longer wanted buried in her soul. She did not know how to access them, try as she might-she understood that she needed Kimmuriel to help her and that was a thought that terrified her immensely.

_I would let you in, all the way, if I knew how_, came her telepathic intrusion into his mind.

Kimmuriel already anticipating her response, tilted his head in his regular peculiar fashion, and allowed a devilish smile to cross his face.

_You will know how_


	10. Chapter 9 The Journal Entry 1

Entry One: The First Three Days

_The silence is aching with a need for noise and the occasional drip echoing softly from the __speleothems lining the ceiling__ within Kimmuriel's chambers are the only sounds I have heard. I miss the calls bellowing forth from the singing throats of the song birds above ground, however short my stay there had been. I am desperate to get back to the surface to hear those melodies again._

_I have been in Kimmuriel's care and training for a count of three days now though he has made no effort to even acknowledge my existence, or so it feels. I know he has been observing me from his dark corners, studying me carefully. I know he has been delving into my mind in secret, picking apart whatever he can find there. He is measuring me up, he is figuring out how to work me into his routine and train me according to his wants and desires._

_Jarlaxle must have known how lonely I would become down here. He gave me the leather bound journal I write in now. Writing helps tame the boredom I find so suffocating right now. Before I left with Kimmuriel, Jarlaxle sat down with me to give me advice that, as he put it, "would keep me alive."_

_Jarlaxle told me that it takes a special person to really know Kimmuriel and Kimmuriel is the one who gets to decide who is special. I have come to understand just how guarded and reserved the drow psion is. Kimmuriel doesn't allow anyone close to him, he keeps a safe distance from most and he decides who he chooses as 'friendly' acquaintances. Jarlaxle warned me to never touch Kimmuriel, Kimmuriel does not allow anyone to lay a hand on him and those who do, don't live long to tell about it._

_Kimmuriel is the single most dangerous weapon Jarlaxle has at his disposal. He is calculating and cruel and I know he is thinking about all the ways he would enjoy hurting me. Nothing would bring him more pleasure than my demise. I am a threat to him, not only is my ability working against me but my gender is as well. Kimmuriel, the misogynist that he is, has an utmost distrust of women and what he doesn't know, is that I know why. I could feel it in him. I know he hides a similar past to mine and I know he suffered through a cruel abuse that is responsible for forming the very creature he has come to be…_

_I must stop writing now, he is here…_


	11. Chapter 10 His Puppet

Lanie stopped writing and put down her feather pen closing her journal as Kimmuriel sat down at the opposite end of the table. He moved his eyes and looked at her, she felt his gaze accompanied by a brief feeling of tormented pain, an emotion he projected at her. She stopped breathing for a second, sudden fear growing in the pit of her stomach.

Why would he do that? He was testing her, Lanie was sure of it. To keep calm she focused on the table, it was a large rectangular slab of cold onyx with finely carved white alabaster legs. The alabaster held ornate spider web details that spiraled around each leg. The webbing continued into the corners of the black onyx tables as fine inlays and the sheer size of the table made her feel minuscule.

Thousands of finely carved spiders decorated its outer edge and larger spiders with smaller ones detailed the center of the table. It was an extraordinary piece of furniture and Lanie could sense that it once belonged to a high drow house and must have been looted by Bregan D'aerthe after the house's demise. Her suspicion was confirmed when her finger traced the carved name, Do'Urden, on the underside of the table. That name was one that weighed heavily on Jarlaxle's mind, it was among the first thoughts she scoured within the mercenary when she met him.

Kimmuriel caught her attention with a thought and motioned for her to approach him. She hesitated at first but quietly obeyed, walking toward him with her head down. He nodded for her to take a seat near him. Lanie lowered herself onto the bench placing her hands palms down on the table, it was cold to her touch, and in that moment the coolness was the only thing that felt comfortable.

"Puppet," Kimmuriel called to her in a soft whisper, "puppet."

His hushed whisper deafened the air. Lanie wanted to cry, given the implications enshrouded in the word he used.

"My name is Laenaia Manaallin." Lanie declared abruptly, "Not puppet."

She met his cold stare again. He said not a word instead he leaned back slightly in his seat and concentrated on her, rubbing the sharp features of his face with the slender fingers of his left hand . A warm fuzzy sensation made itself present in her head and she didn't fight it but allowed it simply to consume her mind. Lanie knew that if she chose to fight she was only making things worse for herself. She laid open her mind to his probing sense welcoming the intrusion.

A very slight and wicked smile danced across his face as he leaned forward towards her. Lanie tried to keep her eyes focused on her feet that dangled just above the ground from where she sat but he guided her to look at him. She could sense that this would be her first training session with him. She was excited but terrified all in the same moment upon that realization.

_I know what you are puppet,_ whispered Kimmuriel's mental voice.

_I know you do, you are the only one who does. You also know how badly I hate it. What they did to me, I didn't ask to be this way. I didn't ask to be different; I didn't ask to be sent away from my people because of what I was. Then the illithids came and they killed my father and they did this to me._

She held fast to his gaze showing not an ounce of fear towards him. He was already intrigued by this most unusual child .

_Can you take this awful thing from me?_ She asked.

_I cannot, it is a part of you now there is no undoing what is done. I am curious in knowing how they did it? A host is never as young or as small as you, you are a rare thing,_ said Kimmuriel.

Lanie climbed up onto the table, adjusted her little blue satin dress, the one Jarlaxle had picked out for her, and sat cross-legged in front of Kimmuriel.

"I, I can't remember it all. It is in my head, and, and I cannot get it out. I know it's in there, But I can't get at it. They, they di-did that, they locked it in there and I can't get it out. It festers there and I feel as though I can't breathe at times. I want you to help me; I need to you g-g-get it out. I wa-wa-want it out of me." Lanie replied with anxiety ridden stutters, rocking herself back and forth and cupping her ears for comfort and control.

Kimmuriel instinctively knew she would find the topic upsetting, though he didn't want to see her fall into a manic fit like her last episode. He focused his mind into hers and used his abilities to calm her and keep her attentive. She let out a deep breath and he watched her shoulders loosen and fall slightly. Lanie was trying her hardest to follow his mental cues and relax, continuing to tell her story telepathically.

_Sometimes I wish it had worked the way it does for most hosts. I wish I'd become fully illithid, but I was an anomaly. They told me I was special, they told me I was unique, they knew what I would become,_ Lanie paused for a brief second tracing her finger along a matrix vein within the onyx table. _They told me that one of my own people had given me up to them. This imaskari told them where my father and I would be and they were already expecting us._

_One of my own people traded me to them for information, expanded trade routes, and to form an alliance. If I ever find out who it was I will kill them myself._

Lanie stopped and regarded Kimmuriel, expecting a response from him for her bold declaration. He felt the overwhelming sense of sadness and anger that she unknowingly projected forth from her body. However the feeling was so far removed from his understanding that he was unsettled. Abruptly Kimmuriel got up from his chair putting a greater distance between himself and Lanie, quickly calling up his mental defenses to rid himself of the unwanted intrusion.

He had never been in close proximity with such a powerful empathic individual, in fact he had never heard of anyone who could project to such an extent and so young. She was unique and it was of no surprise to him that the illithids had sought her out. The realization that he was in charge of something the illithids greatly desired and would go to great lengths to get back had not been lost to him.

Kimmuriel took his seat again, this time he was more guarded. He quickly scoured her mind and was profoundly shocked and intrigued with what he saw. He persuaded her to continue talking, keeping himself mentally in tune with her, knowing that she needed the emotional release and he needed to assist her in releasing the dreaded memories she had locked away. He wanted her mind clear so her training would be effective and he could mold her the way he wanted her to be.

"When I was sent away from my people I had only empathic psychic abilities, an eidetic mind, and slight foresight abilities. I can recall my entire life even before I was born, once I became consciously aware of myself of course. I remembered the sounds of voices, music, and to some extent others' emotions from while I was in utero.

When I was born I was normal looking with two blue eyes. I was only unusual then because I was quick to learn everything. I could talk by 2 months, walk by five, read and write in three languages by one year. My people couldn't fathom my ability especially when I exhibited no magic inclinations at all," Lanie explained.

She looked at him for a response but he only encouraged her to keep on talking. She could feel him in her head helping her draw it all out.

_Should I continue telepathically or spoken? _

_Do which ever you are most comfortable with_, came Kimmuriel's unspoken reply.

Lanie debated that as she swung her legs out from under her letting them hang over the edge of the table. She rested her small feet on top of Kimmuriel's legs just above his knees, then tilted her head and studied his reaction, but he offered none. She was testing him and he was testing her, she leaned forward bringing her right hand towards his face and stopping just shy of actually touching his skin.

The phosphorescent fungus within the room gave a slight bluish-green cast to her otherwise pearlescent skin tone. Even in the darkness the stark contrast of her ivory skin next to his black skin was noticeable. She considered it for a moment longer, the juxtaposition between the two of them; his black skin and white hair, her white skin and black hair. Like night and day she thought as she reached out again in a desire to touch him.

_Jarlaxle said if I cherish my life I am never to touch you, no one who does ever lives. I am not much for cherishing my life anymore, not when I feel like this, not when I have become this thing. How easy it would be to end it all now. Don't you think?_

Kimmuriel said nothing, just titled his head opposite of hers and continued studying her.

_The larvae the illithids implanted in my head was like no other. It was aged longer and altered in a special process after being harvested from its Elder Brain at 10 years of age. The ceremorphosis lasted longer than I can remember and the pain, the pain was excruciating._

Lanie gripped the sides of her head and started rocking herself again, desperate to ward of the painful memories that suddenly flooded her mind. The memories were coming faster and faster assaulting her with horrific images from that time. She wanted it to stop.

_Breathe four times over, big deep breathes and listen to the sound of my voice._

She heard Kimmuriel's telepathic message and began breathing waiting for him to send her another message, only this time he continued speaking outloud.

"The memories you are enduring through right now were not blocked away by the illithids, you did that on your own accord, and you were protecting yourself. I only assisted you in relaxing and releasing them. The mental barrier you constructed for yourself was powerful, I am impressed, to say the least. That is not to say that I have not found barriers within your head that I cannot get through at this moment.

There is plenty left for me to explore and I am vested in drawing out whatever is locked away in your mind." Kimmuriel spoke pointing his index finger into the middle of her forehead and drawing it down tracing the bridge of her nose then stopping at her lips.

"You are a marvelous thing, puppet, and I promise, you will be free of all that you have locked away, this I can guarantee."

Kimmuriel had a growing interest in knowing what sort of alliance was made between this Imaskari Lanie spoke of and the illithids that held her captive. There was a great rise in illithid activity as of lately and this had many of the inhabitants of the Underdark concerned. Kimmuriel was beginning to sense that Lanie was going to play a very key role in the future events that promised to play out.

He spent awhile longer teaching her how to control her anxiety and mentally focus herself when she felt the frenzied grip of mania overtaking her. Kimmuriel was looking forward to the progression of her training and as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Jarlaxle had been right about this child being worth their while.


	12. Chapter 11 Journal Entry 2 The Bug

_His eyes weigh heavier on me than a sack of rocks; he has the ability to pin me down in a construct of his mental design. He opens me up and delves in, raping the inner most sanctums of my very soul. _

_He finds delight in it-he finds a sense of relief in the mental torment he is able to bestow upon me. It brings him a relief from his own pain, which he locks deep within the core of his being._

_The unfeeling creature he claims to be is only a lie. _

_His cruelty brings him relief from the inner monsters that fester within him. I know he desires to tear me apart, wanting to draw lines across my body with my own blood, wanting to feel my life's light slip into darkness at his will. But his hands are stayed by the persuasions of Jarlaxle. I know this._

_Even as much as I am an asset to him I am also a threat. I am a nuisance in his life, a pesky bug that needs to be stamped out underfoot, but for someone like Kimmuriel, that would not be enough, no, if I were a bug, he would start by trapping me in a cage of suffocating design. He'd allow a little air in, snapping off the lid and watching me struggle with the waning oxygen levels. Only to bring me to a point of near unconsciousness before cracking the lid to allow just enough air in to keep me alive-to keep me aware._

_Then he would start with my legs, plucking each one slowly and deliberately, and observing my reactions and my movements each time with one less leg, until finally all six were gone. He would not stop there; he would not kill me yet, because my torture would not be satisfying enough for him. He would keep me alive, feeding me, forcing me to continue living when I had long lost my will to live; that is the way he likes his victims most- without their will._

_Kimmuriel would force me to endure until he decides when my bug life should end. The ending would be the most brutal-the most disturbing, the ending would be his climax. Only then would he be satisfied in a way most people find satisfaction in a session of heated lovemaking. _

_The brutality of my bug death would be an ultimate release of his built up torment. The tension, the desire to kill builds up in Kimmuriel in such explosive proportions that when he finally does kill his victim, all that tension, all the hatred, just vanishes-but only for a short time Before the need returns again._

_Kimmuriel is God-like in his ability to control a life as well as the pain and suffering he inflicts on that life. Since he must keep me alive he desires only to turn me into a complacent puppet, a mere plaything for his desires. If I were the bug, I'd have it easier. _

_I am alive and to be kept alive which in itself is a curse as Kimmuriel will not be satisfied with my training and development until I am as dead inside as he is. I refuse to let him win…_

_However still, this puppet wishes she were_

_a bug…_


	13. Chapter 12 The Conspirators

The female drow stepped back from the illithid, a look of freight and suspicion stung the sharp features of her face. She was very short and slight even by drow standards, standing just shy of four feet. She was dressed in a modest but form fitting black dress. The thin material it was made of changed its shape slightly as she moved accentuating her scrawny boyish figure.

"I think I will stay here," she said. "You go on ahead," she told the mind flayer.

"Fine. You do that," it gurgled with a tone of displeasure as it teleported away, but not before it allowed one of its four tentacles to brush the side of her face ever so gently. The illithid knew it disgusted her and it reveled in her discomfort.

The drow female was left behind with three of its illithid apprentices, one of which still had not completed its ceremorphosis and was stuck in a rather strange limbo between human and illithid form. The mere sight of it twisted her stomach though she found it hard to avoid gawking at it.

"We need to keep moving," she declared. The four of them stepped back from the static that lingered exactly in the spot where the illithid had opened its teleportation portal. The drow motioned for the three illithids to follow her. They were in the clearing of a small rust-red plateau of a cave shaft that extended about 20 yards.

There was a cliff where the edge promised a drop of several hundred feet before hitting a bottom covered with jagged stalagmites. Just beyond the stalagmites was another drop, the uppermost beginning of the Claw Rift, a place the drow female was very familiar with-her entire family had met their demise in its bowels-or so she believed.

There was not a sound in the cave except for the occasional hot swoosh of air that was prone to blow through the shafts given its close proximity to the veins of lava that flow to the nearest volcano about five miles away. The four figures said not a word out loud, that was not their customary way of communicating. Instead the conversation they shared telepathically was deep and intense. They were plotting, they were planning, they were searching-searching for something presumed dead- and they needed to find it, what they were planning depending on it.

They continued their hike up towards the back of the cave where an ancient ruin structure jutted forth from the back wall. The female drow's face widened in an eager smile as she picked up her pace then stopped just shy of the old stone stairway that lead into the ruin. The illthids were quick to flank her side and wait for what was to come.

A long smoke-like shadow slithered slowly and deliberately down the steps. The four shifted their weight and moved away from the stairs as the shadow suddenly rose up to take a drow-like form. He stood taller than the average drow with a body that was lithe and tightly muscled. His eyes, fierce black orbs, were the magnificent atavism that revealed his ancient dragon bloodline. He wore a thin rapier on his hip and his every movement exuded confidence. He casually stepped down the remaining stairs with a small measure of arrogance to his mannerism. He took a low respectful bow in front of the drow female before a rather wicked smile found its way to his chiseled face.

"I am sorry if I have kept you waiting too long." He voiced a rather empty apology.

_We would have waited as long as necessary to ensure this chance meeting_, the female replied telepathically in his mind. _It is an honor to meet you Master Nimor Imphraezl_.

_We are excited you have even considered our offer and we assure you that an alliance forged with us will be worth your while. _

"That is what I am counting on." Nimor flashed his wicked smile again.

* * *

><p>Jarlaxle stood with his back up against the tree on the hillside he frequently used for meetings with Valas and occasionally Kimmuriel. Valas had just left for his current assignment and the mercenary now waited for the arrival of his former lieutenant and the imaskari child that he entrusted in his care. He had much to discuss with Kimmuriel in regards to Laenaia as well as matters for Bregan D'aerthe.<p>

Jarlaxle would be leaving and there were things of concern he needed to address before imparting on one of his frequent long absences. A sound caught his ear and nearby a shadow moved. A young child appeared followed by a drow both seeming to glow in the waning moonlight. Kimmuriuel proceeded in Jarlaxle's direction and stood by the tree while Lanie rushed to the edge of the hill to wait for the sunrise which wasn't too long away.

"How did it go with her?" Jarlaxle asked keeping his eyes fixed on the small child.

Kimmuriel scratched his chin as a moth flew up towards Jarlaxle, attracted to the moonlight reflecting off the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"It has been challenging. But then my hands are tied to a certain degree when it comes to training her." The psion shot a sidelong glance at Jarlaxle.

"She is learning to master a few techniques that can help her control her mental breakdowns." He explained, "But she still has a long way to go. If I can be more regimented and disciplined with her training, I know I will make better progress with her. "

"One can teach as efficiently and effectively with gentle hands as they can with brutal ones. You feel a need to break her, because that is all you know, and that is how you were taught." Jarlaxle paused for a moment considering his words before correcting himself, "That is how_ we_ were taught."

Kimmuriel grunted his displeasure with Jarlaxle's sentiments.

"That is why we are the stronger race." He challenged.

"And I say we are the weaker." Jarlaxle flashed him an angry look.

"And I say that you have spent far too much time up here in this world, its time you come back to where you belong," the psion spat.

"A tad bit emotional are we?" Jarlaxle jested.

"I am trying to be reasonable. I am trying to be logical. You don't belong here and either does the child. She is not human in the way the surface races are. This is not her home. This is not your home. You call my methods cruel and unreasonable yet convincing her to live up here amongst these creatures is just as a cruel as my preferred methods of teaching, if not more so." Kimmuriel argued.

"We used to belong here. All of us collectively."

"Are we going to delve into the stories of old times now?" Kimmuriel asked his voice riddled with disgust.

Jarlaxle didn't like the way the psion spoke those words, they seemed to hang in the air heavy and thick before finally melting away. Jarlaxle turned to regard his frustrated friend. No one knew Kimmuriel the way he did, there wasn't a single soul who understood the dark depths from which Kimmuriel had come. No one knew just how unmercifully the psion had been beaten and tortured throughout his childhood and into his later years. His may be riddled with scars but even those do not run nearly as deep as his psychological ones.

Could he ever change? Could he ever see the good in the world? The hands that molded him, the ones responsible for creating who he was, did so with hate and cruelty. Jarlaxle's gaze settled on the child who sat quietly and patiently with her back towards them waiting for dawn to usher in its warm golden splendor. A glimmer of hope resounded with that child.

"Don't break that girl, Kimmuriel," Jarlaxle voiced his response, which sounded more like a desperate plea. A long moment of silence swallowed the morning air before Jarlaxle dare continue.

"How are things fairing where Gromph and Bregan D'aerthe are concerned?" Jarlaxle inquired. "I may not have much to do with Bregan D'aerthe these days, but the actions of my brother are always of a concern to me."

Kimmuriel observed his former master silently for a while longer before swirling his hand in a downward motion to a show a collapse into chaos. Jarlaxle leaned back against the tree staring up into the wildly laced boughs above him. The leaves on the tree were beginning to lift in anticipation of the rising sun and the dewdrops that clung to their green flesh shimmered in the fast fading moonlight. It was a beautiful sight and he wished to hold onto bit longer before it became yet another memory. He slowly turned to observe the psion whose eyes were now settled on the girl, the mercenary wanted to break this awkward silence, but he struggled to find the words. Instead it was Kimmuriel who voiced two words that shattered the silence.

"Troubles Coming." Kimmuriel's mouth turned down at both ends, despite having a face that usually revealed little, Jarlaxle could sense the psion's trepidation.

_There are matters I wish to discuss with you in private _the psion's telepathic voice entered Jarlaxle's head.

It was clear that whatever Kimmuriel did not want the child to be in their presence when he shared whatever it was he had to share.

Jarlaxle nodded his head, _I will make a point to meet with you ten nights from now, and I will come to you."_

Kimmuriel's eyes still focused on the child said not a word only nodded his head in return, and abruptly teleported himself away.


	14. Chapter 13 Ashes

"I want to go see Valas now." Lanie said, tugging on the bottom of the Jarlaxle's vest.

He wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the spot Kimmuriel teleported through. He noticed the sun had risen and there were plenty of birds chirping from the boughs of the tree he stood under. A strange feeling lay heavy in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake it. Again, he felt Lanie tugging on him.

"Come," she said, "I want to go."

"Alright, alright," he replied beginning to stride forward. He felt the small girl grab his pinkie with her hand and she began to skip forward matching her step with his.

Lanie looked up at the drow; his mouth was drooping like his eyes. He had a heavy heart she could feel it with an intensity that caused her to instantly throw his hand away from hers. Suddenly she ran back to the spot where she had watched the sunrise, collapsing into the grass and hiding her face with her hands. The tears that the mercenary was unable to cry for himself were streaming down her cheeks.

She mentally told herself to breathe, deep breathes, rocking herself and counting to refocus her mind. Counting slow deep breathes she visualized something that brought her comfort, which oddly enough, in that moment happened to be in the quiet quarters of her psion mentor. Kimmuriel's teaching had become instinctual; the techniques that he spent long arduous hours teaching her had sunk in.

"Are you alright Laenaia?" Jarlaxle asked with some hesitation.

Laenaia lifted her eyes as if puzzled by something but then quickly shifted her gaze down towards the town below the hill and then out towards the sky. A hawk was soaring on the wind and the sight of it brought a smile to her thin lips as she wiped another tear from her cheek.

"You want Kimmuriel to change, you want all of them to change, and you need them to. It will be the vindication you seek. Your experiment on a human assassin friend ended with a disappointing outcome. You fear there is no redemption for the drow or for yourself even. The drow are fueled by lust, hate, greed, and a power for hunger. You have found a glimmer of hope in Drizzt. You pray he succeeds in a life above for in the heart of Jarlaxle beats a hope that his people are capable of change and without that hope there is no longer a point to Jarlaxle's life." She hesitated quickly before continuing.

"That is what you projected just then. That is what I felt as if it were my own feeling. That sentiment lies deep in your heart where you shut it away most of the time, but you were dwelling on it just then" Her mouth collapsed in an awkward but gentle smile.

"It's okay to feel that way and you don't have to talk about it, not right now." She offered her sentiments shyly while wiping the tears from her face. "Actually I would prefer that you to talk about it. It frightens me."

Jarlaxle was in awe of her, he didn't realize how easy it was for her to pick up on such things even with the magical devices he had in his possession. Kimmuriel was right, she was quite powerful. He watched her struggle to stay in control of herself, sitting back on her heels she closed her eyes and began breathing slowly. When she opened them again she searched the sky for the hawk, but it was long gone. The breeze had picked up and she raised her hands in an attempt to catch it.

Jarlaxle found himself to be totally enraptured with the girl. He knelt down beside her on the hill and permitted a small smile to reach his lips as he entertained an idea that he would normally have found quite unnerving. If it was that easy for her to sense those feelings in that short time, he wondered just how much more she had felt during the times she had been in his presence? What more did she know about him?

"What it is I know I won't share with anyone." She answered his unspoken question without breaking her stare from the sky. "But you must promise me one thing and you and I both know how difficult promises are for you and how easily betrayal comes to you, should you find a level of prosperity in it."

The child turned herself to face him reaching up to hold his face in her hands. She cocked her head strangely to one side and slowly lifted the eye patch that now covered his left eye.

"You don't need that silliness with me." She giggled softly as she flipped it up to rest on his forehead.

She drew her fingers gently down tracing his face and took both his hands in hers. Strangely enough he did not feel alarmed, but instead welcomed the strange moment that was occurring between them.

"When infinity comes to settle over me I want you to promise me on thing." She whispered. "Please." She paused briefly before continuing and the only response he could give her was a slight nod.

"Burn me. Burn my flesh, burn my bones, send my ashes with the wind. I don't wish to suffer a death where I cannot die. Don't leave me to dwindle endlessly in some cold phylactery under someone else's influence. I was given a power I didn't ask for. I don't want to be bound to it endlessly.

Please I beg you to set your selfish nature aside and any temptation you may have to keep me for your personal gain. Promise me that. You must promise me that," tears began streaming down her face.

Jarlaxle suddenly found himself wishing she had tried to attack him with some psionic invasion for that would have been easier to deal with than her current request. He was totally caught off guard by the request. It was haunting and he could feel chills traveling through to his core. It was as if she knew or had a premonition of her future demise. He knew promises were hard to keep and he had a general understanding of the potential she could become. He was afraid he may not be able to keep such a promise.

"Please." She sobbed her desperate plead, crawling up into his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. He could feel her warm tears trailing down his neck he could feel the emotions she felt, she was projecting them into him. She wanted him to feel how important it was for her.

"I will do this for you little Lanie, you have my word."

She raised her head to look into his eyes, "Do I have Jarlaxle the drow's word? Or do I have the word of Jarlaxle's heart?"

She placed her hands on his chest just above his heart then slowly lowered herself, pressing her ear into his chest.

"I would rather the promise be spoken from Jarlaxle's heart and not his mouth." She whispered.

"My heart promises, listen to it." He said.

He looked into the girls eyes and began convincing himself of how necessary it was for him to keep this promise. For a long moment they sat there swallowing the silence that lingered between the two of them. It was Lanie who spoke up first wanting to go see Valas.

"You won't be able to see him right away." Jarlaxle stated rather bluntly.

"And why not? I have been looking forward to seeing him." She said.

"Kimmuriel has him on an assignment." The mercenary explained.

"Oh, if he is away and you are leaving what then is going to happen to me?" she asked with a nervous anticipation.

"Valas and I have made arrangements for you. While you are on the surface you will be living at the Book Wyrm under the care of your adoptive half-orc father, Jarjin. Though not really adoptive, he is just playing a role we assigned to him. Valas and you share a love of the written word, and he has worked hard at forming a mutually beneficial relationship for Bregan D'aerthe with the bookkeeper, Jarjin, and has managed to pull some strings to get you in there." Jarlaxle explained pausing briefly before continuing.

"I have also specifically requested you attend school with the other human children your age. It is important that you be socialized and gain a knowledge and understanding of the people who dwell up here. And when you are not in school you will be helping Jarjin with running and maintaining the store, it will be good for Bregan D'aerthe to have someone such as yourself there."

Lanie kept her gaze ahead of her she didn't mind the idea of staying in the bookstore but going to school was not something she had not anticipated. "I am not sure I want to go to school. I don't think it will be something I need nor is it necessary. Kimmuriel does not like when I come to the surface, he says that I belong down in the Underdark and that I am a far superior being in comparison to the surface dwellers."

"Of course Kimmuriel would tell you that. He tries hard to convince me of where I belong too, but I don't listen to him." A seemingly all know smile crossed Jarlaxle's face just then.

"You must really be growing on him if he wants you to stay with him."

"That's not what you meant to say Jarlaxle." She called him out on his innocent lie.

A puzzled look came across his face as he waited for her explanation.

"You did not say what you were truly thinking. I am not growing on him nor is he developing any sense of fondness towards me. Kimmuriel only realizes what my potential is and his interests lay with my abilities and my past. He doesn't have a caring bone in his body, that is not the way of Kimmuriel and you know this." The girl explained kicking a small pebble off to the side of the trail where it found a new resting spot next to lonely stalk of wild lavender.

Jarlaxle chuckled at her overt acuteness-she was a brilliant little thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
>Kimmuriel put his hands together, matching fingertips, and half nodding. "What news do you have to share after scouting the area in question?"<p>

From across the large table in the Bregan D'aerthe headquarters Valas's eyes met his master's. He was more at ease with the psion now that he had spoken his question out loud in voice. Valas found telepathy unnerving but more than that he was most intimidated by Kimmuriel's other psionic abilities in addition to his presence. He felt this way about the psion well before he became the leader of Jarlaxle's infamous band.

Valas missed Jarlaxle's leadership and though it had been years, he was still struggling to develop a working relationship with Kimmuriel. Where Jarlaxle had a personality and was quite impressionable the psion ran empty, there was so sustenance to his being, and simply put he was void. Kimmuriel will not warm up to anyone and Valas felt that in order to be accepted by the psion things had to change incrementally, he acquiesced and played the roles he felt Kimmuriel expected of him and he never challenged the psion.

With Kimmuriel there was no friendly banter mixed with business nor was there any sense of camaraderie in the way there was with Jarlaxle. The psion was just a body giving orders- just a brain always calculating and capable of efficiently running the band without any pollutants of an emotional thought or care getting in the way. Every decision made and every direction given was done so with a purely logical and strategic thought process.

Valas tugged on the ends of his vest before proceeding. "The group I saw in the upper east tunnel was unique, not like any thralls I have ever seen. They weren't mindless they were functioning on an entirely individualized level and yet they still worked together collectively, like something or someone was directing them, someone had control over them." Kimmuriel was listening intently and tapping his forefingers to his chin as Valas spoke.

"They gathered around wall by the shaft that leads to the surface where they were met by two illithids. One who either did not have a successful ceremorphosis or it's just not complete; it was sickly looking, grotesque even. I couldn't get close enough to hear anything and there was an enchantment placed around their surroundings that kept any magical scrying devices on my vest from working, including those able to pick up on telepathic conversations. The illithids lead the group through the wall and I haven't any idea where they went after that and finding out is well beyond my ability."

Kimmuriel who had not spoken a word since his first question cocked his head slightly in Valas's direction and stood up abruptly. "Focus your mind upon the mental image of the group you saw as well as the illithids." Valas hesitated at first, he knew where this was going and didn't welcome the idea.

_I can force it for you if you prefer, but something tells me you wouldn't like that._The psion's telepathic voice sounded off the walls of Valas's skull.

He was quick to concentrate on the bizarre scene he saw in the tunnel and as he did so he felt the warm sensation of Kimmuriel's mental intrusion and he noted the wicked the smile that crossed the psion's face. It was apparent Kimmuriel knew something that he was not going to divulge. Kimmuriel stepped back and away from Valas, the air next to him started to quiver as a teleportation hole opened. The psion titled his head and tossed Valas a small pouch full of coins, his eyes narrowed and grew serious, "Your service here is no longer required, and you are free to leave."

Valas made a squawk of some sort and began to stammer, "I prefer to find my own way back up to the surface." He hated teleporting as it was quite nauseating. In all truth he didn't prefer using any of his magical trinkets all that much. He was born a low class male in the Underdark and had managed to survive for centuries without many magical devices or enchanted weapons, other than the ones he stole, and he did not have the academy training that the wealthy drow were "entitled" to. He had learned to make do and survive with very little.

"I am not giving you the choice" Kimmuriel issued his spoken threat.

Valas took a deep breath and obeyed.


	15. Chapter 14 What She Is Not

The drow lifted his slender finger to the air in front of the cold bluish slab wall of the cave. The air tingled with a gentle energy and a faint reverberation sounded as a low dull drone within the rocks surrounding the area. The energy the psion felt told him it was frequently used as a spot for teleportation and he also knew where it led, though it had been years since his last visit. He had not been the least bit surprised when he found the image of this place within his scout's head.

He made a slight motion with his left hand to activate his own teleportation hole within the slate wall and stepped through. The room was musty and dimly lit by the glowing phosphorescence of a collection of Underdark fungi. A figure stood at a research table, it's back towards Kimmuriel, but well aware of the psion's presence. It had been expecting its "friend" of old to make an appearance.

"Ah Kimmuriel, I have been wondering when you would show up. My apologies for speeding along the process by allowing your scout to catch a rare glimpse of me. You are still deserving many accolades for the coup you were able to pull off with the shard. You being the cleverest triumvir in that chaotic triumvirate. I cannot thank you enough for my new life," the illithid's gurgled voice sounded through the room as it motioned for Kimmuriel to take a seat.

"I thought Yharaskrik would be content with his new existence within the astral plane, but I see he has mastered the ability move through both worlds."

There was a long drawn out pause before Kimmuriel continued, his all-knowing eyes fixed intently on his former ally before switching the conversation to telepathic means.

_But I know Yharaskrik cannot master such abilities on his own, which brings me to ask, who is helping you?_

Yharaskrik's strangely horrific eyes reflected the same cold hard stare that Kimmuriel's eyes held.

_We are in the astral plane now, surely you can take on any look you so desire but here I find you wearing the grotesquely hideous appearance that troubled you so in your material life. In the memories of my scout I saw you allied with an alhoon. I find it strange a powerful illithid lich is unable to detect who you really are. It appears you are in the midst of a clever ruse outfitted in the most becoming of disguises-a young illithid whose ceremorphosis went horribly wrong. I commend you on your abilities to deceive a very powerful foe. It hasn't the slightest idea what you are truly capable of._

_Just as you have those around you convinced you are nowhere near as powerful as you truly are._ Yharaskrik challenged. _Even Jarlaxle doesn't have a true understanding of what you are. It goes without challenge that you are able to subdue powerful liches with a mere thought. Look what you have done to control Valindra Shadowmantle, and yet no one seems to question how this is possible for you? We both have our fair share of secrets, but unlike yours, not all of my secrets are not meant to be kept entirely to myself. No Kimmuriel, now I need you yet again, which is why you now find yourself here. I have secrets to share in regards to the one reason you have come to me in the first place._

"What reason is that?" the psion asked in drow language.

"The little Laenaia Mannallin of course," the illithid answered in a hard to decipher bubbly tone.

Kimmuriel jolted up slightly at the mention of the young girl's same. The reaction did not go unnoticed by the illithid. Yharaskirk knew Kimmuriel wasn't expecting him to mention the girl's name, in fact he was counting on that.

"Relax, my friend, I have known the child well before she ever came into your care and I have known a piece of her for a count greater than her life. I have taken great pride and care in the development of that child, but she does not belong to me. Nor does she belong to you. She is first and foremost a very powerful tool and great care must be taken in her training."

Kimmuriel sat back more at ease but somehow managing to look both disdainful and indulgent at the same time.

"A tool? Or a weapon? I have already taken an initiative in studying her. I know what she is.I know what she is capable of doing."

"Do you now?" Yharaskrik asked with a noticeable hesitation as he took a seat across from Kimmuriel.

"Do you really know what she is?" the illithid challenged, wanting Kimmuriel to play into his hand. Hoping the psion would spill the knowledge he had of Laenaia, afterall she was a rare gem, the only of her kind, and it would be a true testament to Kimmuriel's ability if he truly had an understanding of what she was.

"I had surmised she was created by a group of outcast illithids as an Adversary of sorts. She was the result of an experiment that had gone successfully wrong- she exceeded their expectations. During much of my research over the last century I have discovered selective groups of illithid outcasts trying to evolve themselves, they are seeking to live independent lives and recruiting other illthids to see how life could be for them beyond the confinements of their elder brains. Many of them desire a life not so different from the one you now live. Many are hungry for power and their own unique identities."

Kimmuriel paused, studying his ally carefully, though he knew it was useless, as its bulbous disfigured face was not able to show any form of emotion.

"You said you had surmised?" it gurgled with intrigued.

A wicked smile broke the psion's usual stony face.

"I've been scouring her mind since the moment I met her. I have encountered many mental blocks that I could not break. I figured those blocks had been put there by her creators, but now I am I aware she herself has put them into place. Some she has conscious control over but some she does not. I have seen fragments of her past but I am unable to piece together the full picture. There are illithids in her memories and there is a female presence there, I cannot get to this female and can only sense she is older and not an illithid. Whatever the reason is, the child is extremely guarded over the identity of that female." Kimmuriel explained.

"But that femail and those mental blocks she has constructed are of little significance to me at this time..and why?" the Kimmuriel asked with a deliberately exagggerated monotone voice.

Kimmuriel paused, tapping his fingers to his chin and letting his wicked smile widen, "Because Yharaskrik, I know what she is not. Tell me about the larva you used to create her, I sense that its biology isn't entirely illthid in origin. And I know you are working for someone other than the illithids my scout saw you with. I wonder if the illithids you have aligned yourself with are aware of your dealings?"

The illithid snapped his head upright tensing suddenly, but Yharaskrik was quick to regain his composure realizing his sudden emotional reaction had just given Kimmurial an advantage.

"Emotions are irksome encumbrances aren't they, always tripping you up. I am ever thankful to be a creature of logic. Now tell me, about the larva used in her creation. The child has already alluded to me that it was special and that she was special. You and whoever you are working with specifically sought her out for what gain? What is her purpose?"

A deep bellied laughter burst from the illithid. "You, Master Kimmurial Oblodra, never cease to amaze me. Your intelligence and your all-knowing mind, and your abilities, do you ever find your scared flesh to be an encumbrance for you? Do you ever consider what you could be without the limits of a material existence?"

Yharaskrik noted the psion's fists tightening and his sharp jaw clenched so severely there was a pulsing in his upper cheeks, "No, I suppose wearing one's emotions on their sleeves can be irksome, but emotions are far more destructive when suppressed. All someone has to do is find the right trigger to set them off. I am sure I don't have to remind you of that, you still remember nothing of your mental break when your mother and oldest sister found your trigger."

Kimmuriel's face remained emotionless but Yharaskrik knew he had hit a nerve and there was a long awkward moment of silence between them. Kimmuriel laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on the table resting his chin on his fingers.

_Tell me about the larva used in Laenaia's ceremorphosis,_ came the psion's demanding telepathic voice.

The illthid sat back bridging his long fingers together, leaving his pinkies free to twitch in an odd nervous mannerism. Two of his tentacles stoked the area on his face where there should have been a chin.

_You are correct in your deductions; I am not working for the Illithids. I am in disguise, a mole of sorts. I have been trained in managing my existence outside this astral plane by those I work for. The larva, I harvested in secret from an elder brain that was quickly destroyed along with all the illithids attached to it by my employers. That larva you are so curious about was enhanced by my employers prior to its insertion in the young Laenaia Manaallin. She was not lying when she told you she was special._

The illithid shifted his weight and continued his story out loud in near perfect drow language, "She is very special and you will take good care of her, I have no doubt, you were selected for the purpose of training her."

"I was selected?" Kimmuriel asked with disbelief.

"She was selected because of her inherent abilities, because they needed a being that was not corrupted already by life's ill moments, that is why they needed a young child. Certain aspects of her life have been predetermined, like you for instance, we knew you would the most logical choice in her training. Even Jarlaxle and your scout Valas all have a place and purpose in her life and there will be more along the way, but you Kimmuriel, will always have a purpose in her life, while she still has it to live. We have no control over how she lives and most of the events in her life. That is up to you and your friends. She is still very vulnerable and we are counting on you to keep her safe.

The illithid's hard stare did not leave Kimmuriel as he continued speaking.

"Both of you, with your abilities have roles yet to play. There are those not happy with the uprising of the outcast illithids and their alhoon allies. The elder brains are preparing their faithful followers for something terrible, a war like no one has seen. They are seeking powerful alliances to help with their cause. Alliances that do not want the outcast illthids to be successful and as you and I both understand all too well, no good can come from a war where weapons and magic have little power."

Kimmuriel clicked his tongue in disgust and gently tapped his thumb against his forehead. The illithid understood the nature of the psion and knew he was contemplating deeply. Kimmuriel stood up walking closer to the seated Yharaskrik, tilting his head in an odd bird-like fashion, one of his many strange nuances.

He flicked his wrists and his fingers twitched. Yharaskirk was unsure of what the psion was about to do or say. Kimmuriel's odd display had him on unedge and unsure of what to expect, Yharaskirk knew he did not want to challenge the psion, even on the astral plane he wasn't strong enough to defeat the great Kimmuriel Oblodra.

"Tell me Yharaskrik, what did the aboleths promised you for your allegiance?"

"Aboleths? What brought you to this conclusion?" Chortled Yharaskrik.

"Logics." Kimmuriel sharply retorted.

The illithid stood up and graciously bowed in front of Kimmuriel and upon rising, began clapping.

"Kimmuriel you are an outstanding specimen." He stopped briefly before continuing, if you must know about the female that Laenaia keeps so guarded in her memory, you will find the answer on Laenaia herself."

Kimmuriel cocked his head in a clearly nonverbal questioning manner just as Yharaskrik projected a final thought on that matter into the psion's mind.

It will be painfully obvious but rest assured, all you need to know will be made known to you in due time. But no need to worry about that now. I have more important matters to discuss with you. Matters that need the master of Bregan D'aerthe's full attention.

****disclaimer****_I am writing this story with specific understanding of the illithid which isn't knowledge readily available in some of the novels. One might want to research illithids at the WOTC/FR websites to gain some understanding on how they spawn, what the stages of larvae developement are, and what happens to a host in the various forms of ceremorphosis. It may do some good to read up on Yharaskirk (from Servant of the Shard) who was presumed dead, and it will do some good if you understand what outcast illithids are and why they are allied with undead lich illithids sometimes refered to as alhoons._


	16. Chapter 15 In Dreams

It was dank and musky, the sound of water droplets echoed throughout the strange cavern. Laenaia knew she was underground but did not know where she was or how she had gotten there. Directly before her stood a sight that made her gasp, a large structure, an ancient dwelling, carved out of the rock that held the weight of the world above.

It was primitive yet complex, elephantine, but the designs delicate. The symbols carved into the structure were unmistakably illithid in origin. Her eyes absorbed the magnificent sight until she took notice of something else. There were illithids and tzakandi all around her and yet they did not seem aware of her presence.

A sudden cold sensation caused her to panic, an illithid had just walked right through her as if she wasn't there are all. She was a ghost, no, not a just any ghost, she was a ghost of conscience, an entity undead but with all the inherit powers of her psion abilities with no physical body to confine her. Her body was manifested of energy and nothing material, no bones, no organs, no beating heart.

She was very scared until something strange inside her stirred, calling her to step forward toward the entrance of the ancient dwelling. She acquiesced.

Once inside she took notice of the individual cavities, some dozen or so that dimpled the walls of the great structure. She figured them to be personal chambers belonging to the clan of illithids who were a part of this group. A sudden pulse sent waves of fuzzy energy through her body just then. Each wave grew with certain intensity.

The energy felt alive and held her in its grip. It didn't speak to her with a voice but sent impulses and ideas to her mind and she obliged them, she did as she was told. She followed its mental persuasion into an adjacent room where she found the elder brain. It was surrounded by younger illithids and some thralls who were tending to it, massaging its lobes, and carefully stirring the cerebral fluid it thrived in.

Anger and resentment consumed her just then. The hate she held for these despicable creatures turned her blood to ice. The memories of her past coursed through her veins, in her head she heard her own haunting screams from her terrible past, when she was one of their experiments. She remembered the ache of the knife they used to scribe qualith notes into her flesh on her back- the scars left in their wake burned with their memories still.

Always in her head their bubbly voices and their telepathic ones troubled her, a constant reminder of what she was. A distant memory of a female drow face flashed through her mind and that made all the bottled up rage deep within her explode. Without realizing she now held the Labrum Needle in her hands she stormed forward towards the Elder brain and stuck the needle deep into its frontal lobe.

The labrum Needle quivered in eager anticipation as it began to feed off the brain. The Elder Brain seemed to wail as if it had a physical voice, it was only then she realized it was the collective screams of all the illithids, their thralls and tzakandi all around her. They were frenzied as they felt their Elder Brain being consumed. They couldn't stop it, they couldn't save it, and none of them could see her.

She could hear the telepathic messages the Elder Brain was sending out to its community, commanding them to attack and kill the thing that was killing it. But when they couldn't, they began turning on each other, seeing each other as the possible aggressor. The Elder Brain kept sending confused signals of an outside attack as it believed it was being consumed by outcasts. It tried to locate the source of the attack but failed with each attempt.

Laenaie felt the rush of energy escape the needle and flow into her own body. When the powerful weapon fed upon its victim it sent the consumed energy to its wielder. The power of the Elder Brain was significant as it was older and farther developed than most, another few thousand years would have seen it developed into a God-Brain. The fact that she was destroying it made her mad with excitement.

She hated them, hated everything about the illithids, she wanted rid of them all. The gurgled sounds of the illithids attacking each other caused her to squeal in delight. All the while the Elder Brain was trying to attack the very needle that was sunk into its fleshy mass. Each wave of psionic energy it blasted towards the area it felt the attack coming from, the Labrum Needle reacted by hungrily absorbing it. The psionic attack only allowed the Labrum Needle to consume it faster.

The Elder Brain gave one last blast before the mass of the brain raised slightly and with a final thought sent a signal to its dependent community, instantly they all fell to the ground dead as the last bit of energy it contained was devoured by Laenaia and her weapon. The rush of energy that came into her body jolted her so intensely she fell back hard enough to render herself unconscious.

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"Are you okay?" a voice of concern sounded from what seemed a very faraway place.

Laenaia opened her eyes, leaves and boughs laced the blue sky above her. Her fingers closed around stems of grass and patches of rough dirt. It took her a moment to realize she had fallen asleep by the creek at the end of the woods just on the outskirts of Luskan. It took her a while to realize she had been dreaming.

"Are you alright?" a young man, standing over her, asked her again.

The human shaded his eyes from the sun so he could see the young girl's face. A slight gasp of shock escaped him upon noticing her eyes and the paleness of her skin. He stared down at her for a few dashing moments longer then turned to catch his breath; his heart was beating, as if he had just stepped back from the edge of a cliff.

He had heard of her from the other locals in Luskan, he had heard about her strange eyes but he had never seen them for himself. She was beautiful in a very unique way even despite the dowdy outfit she wore. She also known as a loner and was never seen with anyone except for a drow elf.

Laenaia looked at the young man, confused, a moment of silence passed before a little upward movement of her head showed him she was okay. She half turned from him and began to stand up. He was quick to offer hand, which she did not take she only looked at it with distrust. It was her nature to not trust anyone; after all, she has been in the care of the drow for the last six years of her life. She was a creature belonging to the cruel and monstrous world below, where no one offered such displays of kindness.

"I have seen you around Luskan for a few years now, noticed you even went to school with the other kids for a little while. I was told your name is Laenaia and that you are a bit of a loner, you don't have many friends, but I have seen you in the company of a drow." He stated bluntly with a touch of coldness in his tone which froze that final word in his sentence.

Drow was a word that unnerved mostly everyone on the surface. Her eyes met his but she did not say a word. She brushed the dirt off her hands onto her dress and adjusted it some more before pulling her long dark hair around to drape down the left side of her body. Still, she did not answer the young man.

Laenaia was observing him, though not with her eyes, it was so easy, with the surface dwellers to get inside their heads. They were so naïve to mental threats most had never heard of illithids, aboleths, let alone psionics. Right away she sensed his innocence and could perceive no threat from him and when she was finally comfortable with him, she dropped her mental defenses.

She didn't like having to use her abilities and wanted to try and approach the humans on level ground, as one of them. She began to walk away from the human without even a backward glance. In all truth, she was terrified; she didn't know how to respond. Even in school she struggled with being social. They were so bubbly, outgoing, and didn't seem concerned for their welfare in general. Everything was so jovial and in the moment with surface dwellers, particularly the humans.

"Wait, I am sorry if I upset you, I am sorry if I caused you any alarm. I didn't mean to be obtrusive." He rushed around to face her, to keep her from walking away from him. "I heard you mumbling and saw you down on the ground, I wasn't sure if you were hurt, unconscious or…"

He didn't get to finish, she simply just side-stepped him and proceeded on her way. He wanted her to acknowledge him, to say something. He grabbed her arm as she walked by and she spun on him in a heartbeat and sent a fist into his jaw. Her mental defenses were up and he was lucky she chose only to use a fist.

He fell back hard onto the ground, turning to cradle his head, moaning in agony. Her mind began probing his again and she felt instantly guilty when she could find nothing that alluded to him wanting to hurt her. Laenaia carefully walked over to him, falling to her knees beside him, she studied him carefully, tilting her head from side to side. She was way out of her element.  
>"I am sorry." She said, though it sounded more like a question than a meaningful apology.<p>

He rolled slightly to one side, his bottom lip was bloody and he was rubbing his jaw. The human used his elbow to push himself upright and for several moments they sat in awkward silence. Laenaia made an effort to make eye contact with him but was quick to lower her eyes again. She felt so ashamed of herself for what she had done to him.

"It's alright." The human stared solemnly at the young girl, not knowing what to think of her.

"Why are you watching me?" she questioned.

"Watching you?" he stammered, "I don't know what you mean?"

"You said you have seen me around Luskan for a few years now, you took notice of my attendance at the local school, and you obviously inquired around to find out my name. You admitted to noticing the company I keep with, and yet I have never seen you before. Why do you think I would not be frightened?"

He didn't know what to say, he didn't know how to explain why he took notice of her. He didn't know why he had an interest in her. He wanted to know her he wanted to see her up close and not from afar. He did not regret this chance encounter she was a mystery and he wanted to unravel her, piece the puzzle together. He wanted her to trust him and realize she didn't have to be so alone.

"My name is Kalderach." He extended his right hand towards hers.

She rocked back slightly from his extended hand staring at with a mixture of intrigue and curiosity.

"I'm extending you a handshake. You are supposed to take my hand in yours and shake it," he laughed softly upon realizing this was not a custom she was familiar with.  
>She slowly reached her left hand towards his and timidly took a hold of his. The human's hand was warm but the grip felt awkward, she cocked her head and studied the connection. A deep throated laugher erupted from him causing Laenaia to bolt upright.<p>

"Wrong hand, you need to give me your right hand." He took her right hand in his and gently shook it and released.

"That's it? What does that mean?" she asked inquisitively.

"Well, it's a ritual of sorts. People introduce themselves to each other with a handshake, or they do it to say hi." Kalderach explained.

"A ritual, is it religious or ceremonious? And you just do it to say hello?" She pondered out loud.

"No it's not religious but it is often employed in ceremonies, but mostly it is just a kind gesture." Kalderach saw the curious look in those stunning eyes of hers.

She smiled cautiously as the guilt seeped into her core once again at the sight of his broken bloodied smile.

"I am truly sorry I hit you like that. I have never hit anyone before; actually I have never really spoken to anyone in Luskan, on any sort of personal level." A look of deep sadness crossed her face. "I went to school here in Luskan for a little bit, but I didn't really fit in and the other children didn't seem to want anything to do with me. I only went due to the encouragement of a friend who thought it would be a good social experience for me."

She moved her legs, crisscrossing them and proceeded to pluck a piece of grass from the ground nervously twisting it around her thumbs.

"Were the other kids mean to you?" he asked.

"No, they just were unsettled by my appearance."

"What's wrong with your appearance? I see nothing wrong. So you have two different colored eyes and you're a wee bit pale. Doesn't mean anything is wrong with you, you're just unique. My uncle was born with 8 fingers and 8 toes, wasn't anything wrong with him. He was just unique." He smiled warmly at her.

"Unique? Well whatever I am, no one wants a part of it." She bluntly replied.

"That's not entirely your looks doing that for you, might be the company you keep." He sneered.

"The drow you have seen me with is my appointed guardian. He watches over me, he has raised me since I was 8 years old he is no ordinary drow, if he was, he would have killed me ages ago. You do not judge me by my looks but you are judging him by his." She scolded.

"You are human and he is a drow, of course I will judge him by what he is." Kalderach argued.

"I am human?" she laughed at the characterization, she didn't feel human at all, in fact she didn't even feel like she could relate to them.

Laenaia got up quickly, "I have to go."

"Wait, it's not my place to judge someone I have never met, I apologize." Kalderach shouted after her. "Can we be friends?"

Laenaia stopped dead in her tracks no one had ever asked her for friendship before. She thought long and hard about the possibility.

"I'll think about it." She replied without turning around before dashing off in an instant leaving the human behind to contemplate their chance encounter.

Laenaia spent the remainder of her walk back to Valas's apartment dwelling on that dream. She had been having similar dreams more often than she cared to admit to. They felt so real, too real, and she was finding herself too afraid to sleep. Apparently she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep that she dozed off alone in the woods. The idea of this unnerved her, she had left herself vulnerable, something Kimmuriel warned her against.


End file.
